Leaves, Missed Signs, and the Incorrigible Effects of Time
by theps118confessional
Summary: Arnold left. Arnold came back. Arnold didn't change at all. Everything else did. Helga hadn't physically hit someone in years, but God, did she want to punch him in the face.
1. Chapter 1

Arnold left on January 18th of 2010, in the middle of his 7th grade year.

Arnold returned on October 3rd of 2016, in what _should_ have been his freshman year of college.

Arnold had the _audacity_ , or the _naivety_ , to think that nothing had changed.

* * *

In this moment, Helga really couldn't tell you what she had a larger distaste for: lingering gingers making small talk, or cleaning a surface that was already clean.

"I'm not really sure what I want to get for lunch today," the girl twiddled her thumbs by the register, waiting to hit the clock out button. "Maybe a sandwich from the diner?"

Helga could practically see her face in the counter top.

"But that's such a far walk…"

"Don't worry about hurrying back, I've got it covered here." There was a scuff in the counter that couldn't be erased. It was dinged into it by someone dropping a fixture on it. Helga scrubbed at it anyway.

"Oh, I couldn't leave you alone too long. You're so new."

It took all of Helga's willpower not to stare around the empty room blankly. "I think I've got it."

"Well of course you do, but it could get busy at any time, really. Maybe I should just eat here."

"Go," Helga finally looked up at her, leaning on to her palms that were rested on the counter. "Really, I'm fine."

"Well, alright." Lila tapped her nails on the screen that clocked her in and out. Helga scrubbed at the scuff again.

"Oh, no!" She stopped and turned back to Helga, "I feel like there is something I completely forgot to tell you." She stared at her. "But honest to goodness, I have no idea what it is."

"Big thing, little thing?" Helga egged on with only the slightest hint of disinterest in her voice. "Work related, or another black out story?" If it didn't have to do with her general person in the next half hour, then she really didn't give half a fuck.

"No, no…" She shooed her, "Shit." She swore like Helga could only imagine mice sneezed. She'd never heard a mouse sneeze, but she could make her assumptions. "It's on the tip of my tongue."

"Well," Helga took a step backwards, to lean against the back counter on her hands, feeling the cold of the white rag under her palm. "It can't be that important then, can it?" She just wanted the sweet freedom from her endless chatter, whatever Lila had to say may very well have been important. Helga prayed blithely this wouldn't bite her in the ass in a couple of minutes.

"No," She insisted, unlocking her phone as if she had wrote it down, "No, I _really_ must insist that you would find it really good to know."

"Well, whatever it is, I'm sure it can _really_ wait until you come back from your lunch."

"Oh, alright," She tucked her phone back in her pocket. "But you can't say that I didn't warn you."

"I'm sure, whatever it is, I can handle it."

"Oh me too!" She looked flustered, "Just… warning. It's always nice."

"Yep." Helga dragged out, pushing herself off the counter to wipe at nothing on a table. "Go, enjoy your meal Lila."

"Okay, you too! Wait, I didn't- I'm uh-"

"I know what you meant. Thanks."

She left the shop & it was all Helga could do to resist heaving a sigh of relief. Having a coworker that added at least three unnecessary words to every other sentence exhausted her.

* * *

Rhonda Wellington Lloyd hated Hillwood.

It's true, she really, really did.

She just happened to take the two hour train to be home on the weekends because she was worried her parents might miss her too much. That was the fact of the matter. She was not about to become one of those kids who was too ungrateful to her parents to even _call._ So she did, twice a day.

Sometimes they forgot to pick up, but that was probably just a slip of the wrist.

She, perhaps, didn't know where she was going when she left her empty house that morning, her parents _must_ have had an early meeting. Her friends were all tucked away at their various universities, likely making new memories, new friends.

Not that Rhonda _wasn't_ , it was just more-so that it was still a work in progress.

There was just no real sense of _class_ in Hillwood. Girls wore sweatpants out of the house as if it wasn't something to be ashamed of. Jesus, she thought, at least have the decency to buy a pair of leggings. And for God's sake, do not let them be see through.

It really just wasn't that hard to get...dressed, she thought, as she saw a boy walk past her on the street, dressed in a pair of gray sweatpants and a black tank top. His hair brushed the bottom of his jaw, he was probably going to put it into a _bun_ once he got to the gym, she thought with a shiver.

She was another half a block away from him when she realized that she very much _knew_ the boy she had just brushed past, in fact at one point might have considered him a friend. She turned back to look at him. His shoulders looked like he was just beginning to broaden them, like he was just starting to become a _man_.

Of course, he had drifted away from her, as she had drifted away from the rest of that group of people. He might have gone farther from her from the rest of them. But really, what could Sid have expected of her when he pal-ed up with _Helga Pataki_ , and her dyke best friend?

* * *

"It's like talking to bread."

"She can't suck that bad."

"Bread soaked in water."

"…what does the water have to do with anything?"

"You know, you see a piece of bread soaked in water and there's interest. Where did it come from? Why is it wet? But then you look closer and you can finally see it, you know?"

"See…what?"

"That it's just wet bread. That's it."

"Don't you think you're being, I don't know, the tiniest bit harsh on a girl you've known, literally, for ten years, and has been nothing but kind to you? Considering she was the one who got you the job in the first place?"

"I'm sorry I can't hear you over the overwhelming sound of yeast rising over here."

"You're a terrible human being."

"Yes, but I've always been. Yet; you always say that like you're suddenly surprised by it." Helga was grinning on her end of the phone line, and trying her best to hide it from coming across in her voice. The girl on the other end of the phone didn't say anything in return. That was a habit of Cassidy's, one that Helga almost preferred.

She had always kind of preferred quiet people.

Helga _had_ known Lila since she was nine. When she hit middle school  & when shit, amongst other things, hit the fan, she became a constant in Helga's life. She was never truly relevant, she just was always _there_. She kept an eye on Helga; in a way that no one else in her life had really bothered to do.

She should have been thankful for it, but when you're one of those kids who wasn't exactly hugged as a child, all it did was make her uncomfortable.

Helga had wandered out to the customer's side of the lobby. She set her phone down on the counter, wincing at the makeup left rubbed on the screen. She cleaned it off with the underside of her shirt.

"I'm putting you on speaker." Helga heard her say something muffled. "Hold on," She set the phone up so she could hear her. "I'm sorry- what did you say?"

"I just asked why?"

"I want yogurt."

Helga truly underestimated just how dead the day shift of a frozen yogurt shop could be. But, it was and she was here anyway and so there was time to kill. Very little killed time quite like snacks, especially those of a frozen variety.

"Do you get that for free?"

"No."

"Are you going to pay for it?"

"No."

"You're going to get fired."

"Honestly? I can't wait."

The best thing about Cass was that she knew when to not talk at all. She had this instinct of knowing when Helga needed to know there was life besides her on the planet, the sounds of Cass breathing or shuffling her papers, but didn't need to ramble to fill the silence.

That was amongst the best things about Cassidy.

Helga filled a cup up, pushing the yogurt around, watching the colors swirl together. She shoved a spoonful in her mouth before speaking.

"I miss you Cass."

"I'll be home in a month," She spoke sincerely. Helga tried to ignore the lack of her declaration of missing her too. "It'll be before either of us know it."

"I hate college. You should drop out."

"Have you applied at all yet?" She sounded mildly impatient. Helga picked up her phone and turned it off the speaker, swinging back around through the employees only door. She sat on the table they had by the computer, tucking a converse covered foot under her.

Helga was suddenly paying a lot more attention to the Hillwood University sweatshirt that Lila left on the back of a chair. "I've…thought about it?"

Cassidy sighed. "I guess I can take that for now."

"I just need a little more money saved before I can really think about that, Cass." Helga shoved another spoonful on in my mouth

"What about community college?"

"No offense," She swallowed. "But I'd _literally_ rather die."

"You don't mean that."

"You underestimate me."

Helga stared up at the screen that showed her the lobby. There was still no one in it.

"Did we ever get froyo at," She checked her watch "2:16 pm?"

"Uh," Cass coughed "I don't keep logs of our eating habits."

"Really?" She mocked. "Jesus, I thought we were friends, Cass."

"Well, maybe if you didn't eat 8 meals a day…"

"Are you calling me fat." Helga deadpanned, scooping another spoonful in her mouth, keeping her eyes on the empty screen.

"Why do you ask?"

"Why am I asking whether my best friend is implying I'm fat?" She tucked her phone in between her shoulder and her ear so she could get a better angle at my bowl of yogurt. "Well, fuck, Cass, maybe that's-"

"Calm down, Tack. I'm asking why you want a log of our eating habits."

"A frozen yogurt store should not be empty this long." Helga ungracefully tried to get her hair to flip back behind her shoulder by twitching, not dropping her spoon and bowl, or the phone she had pressed between her ear and her shoulder. Her hair should be in a ponytail anyway, but it wasn't. "It's un-American."

"You hate America."

"Well if we want to go and start throwing _opinions_ around-"

"Hey-" She interrupted Helga, which was supremely Un-Cass in it's nature. "Have you been on Facebook today?"

"I avoid it when possible," Helga squinted down, fishing the mnms out of her somewhat melting froyo, "why?"

"I was on today, and-" Helga's neck cramped up, and she jerked it to the other side, promptly dropping her phone on the ground.

"Ah, fuck," Helga jumped off the table, grabbing it quickly, and then dusted her phone off on her pants. "Sorry, Cass, dropped my phone."

"It's okay. Anyway, have you heard anything about-"

The doorbell in the lobby rang, the one that gave you the Get Up Someone's Here signal. She set her cup of yogurt down. "Shit, I have to go. Text me it though."

"Wait, hold on, I think you're really gonn-"

"I _really_ have to go, love you, text me, bye!" Helga whisper shouted, before hitting the little red icon.

She slapped on the baseball cap the store gave her that she so often forewent, and went out to greet the guests.

Which, naturally, were people she knew, considering her town was approximately a block and half wide.

* * *

Pheobe Heyerdahl really didn't expect a ton, socially, out of Hillwood anymore. She had her friends, as everyone else did, in high school. But she felt the expectation mutually between them that college would allow them all to move in their separate directions, without the pettiness and the stalking of Instagrams that so many other friend groups would deal with.

She sat up in her dark blue covers of her dorm bed, shifting her legs around, her heart _still_ picking up speed at the sight of the Yale backpack on the floor.

She worked so hard, she deserved to grin at the inanimate objects that had her successes press-printed on to them.

Her I-Phone dinged quietly, in the tone that gave her the indication that Hey Something is Happening, but not in the Hey This is a Text way. She picked it up curiously anyway, pushing her glasses on to her head so she could read it.

2:32 P.M.

OCT 3RD, 2016

ARNOLD SHORTMAN HAS SENT YOU A FRIEND REQUEST!

Memories of middle school and it's prior years bled back into her mind, quicker than sharpie bleeding through printer paper. She hoped, genuinely hoped, that maybe one day she'd be able to look back at the whole thing without the little pang of hurt in her chest.

Arnold, however, she had nothing but affection for, despite not having seen or heard from him in seven years. That was rather what she expected, after all, when he moved to the middle of nowhere to be with his parents.

She clicked on his profile, smiling sadly at him not having any privacy settings on yet. She wondered if he had any friends at all to show him how.

The photo he used made her full out grin. It was him and his parents, all three beaming widely, Arnold in the middle, huddled over a little because his dad was trying to ruffle his hair and his mom was bent out to kiss his cheek, not quite reaching him. He looked…tall. Much taller than Pheobe expected him to be, maybe even as tall as his dad if he was standing up straight. He was handsome in his own way, maybe not so in the way his father was, but his own brand of it. And, praise God, he was wearing a hat that fit him properly.

He also looked painstakingly happy.

Pheobe grinned at him, because if anyone deserved to be, it was Arnold.

She clicked on to his Friend's List, because if she was going to be creepy she might as well go for the full monty. There were 22 of them. Her heart dropped a little to see that the names that littered it were only people she knew.

That's it.

Had he really not managed to make friends wherever he had moved with his parents?

Or were they just not the Facebook kind of people?

Knowing Arnold, the latter was more likely.

She clicked back to the main timeline, and her heart dropped further at his first status.

* * *

Two boys and a girl, who was obviously _with_ one of the boys, walked into the shop Helga was standing in that day. The boy whom was not attached to the girl tagged behind like a button that had almost fallen off a coat. Helga knew the boys. She remembered them both, however, admittedly, one of their name's was slipping off the back of her mind. He was the loose button, which honestly wasn't surprising, he always was.

The one she knew, Helga knew all too well. And, God, did he know it.

So, God, was he ignoring her.

"Hey guys, how are you!" Helga spoke falsely cheerfully. They didn't respond, the girl smiled. "Let me know if I can help at all!" She smiled at them in the way she did a lot in this town. The you-are-trying-to-ignore-the-fact-we-know-each-other-but-I-the-Bigger-Person-won't-let-you. The girl said thank you, the button boy waved noncommittally. The other boy seemed to let his gaze drift past Helga, unsurprisingly, but it did settle behind her. She self consciously checked over her shoulder. Nothing was there except the the large sign for our establishment that was always there. Helga tuned out the couple discussing flavor combinations, and stared at the TV affixed in the corner. She could ignore the elephants if he could.

The girl wandered up with a quarter full cup, added some strawberries, which made Helga's heart hurt the smallest bit, and set her cup on the scale. She waited, with her head turned towards the boys, just long enough to let Helga know not to weigh the cup yet- that her boyfriend would pay for it.

"He totally knows who you are." The girl leaned forward and spoke quietly. "He's just being an ass."

"It's alright," Helga rolled her eyes. "I'll be honest, I can't even remember his friend's name, and we were best friends." She blinked. "Well, as close I got to having them, anyway."

"Uh, Jake?" The girl turned back to look at him. "His name is Jake." She leaned on to the counter, watching him fill his cup too high. "Gerald and Jake go way back."

"So do me and Gerald." Helga said quietly, leaning in like she was filling her in on a secret.

Hell, it probably was one to Gerald.

"But, I'll be real, Jake is not ringing a bell." Helga muttered, scanning over him. Sure, it had been a solid… 5? or so? years since they had spoken, but she was puzzled by him.

"That's because you didn't call me Jake, Pataki." His voice, twanging at the end of my last name, hinted at the past even further. Helga tried to hide her blush at him recalling her full name, when she couldn't even jog her memory of him. He set his cup down, leaning on to the counter, the towering mass of a boy he was. He was tall as fuck, but still lanky, like his limbs hadn't been fully introduced to the rest of him yet. His hair fell into his eyes, brown and shaggy. "Jake's not even my fucking name," He rubbed a hand between his eyebrows. "Stinky. Stinky Peterson."

"Holy shit," Helga whispered, "you were my _first_ boyfriend!" She laughed, for lack of knowing what else to do at being confronted with the past so directly.

Forgetting one of the key players of your childhood: smooth, Tack, real smooth.

"Was he?" Gerald asked, addressing her for the first time. He was back a bit from the trio of them, observing. Helga and Gerald hadn't made eye contact yet. Helga could you six and a half years of reason as to why she was dreading it.

Gerald looked at Helga, and it seemed to her that not only could he give them too, but also in several languages.

Helga had forgotten just how observant he was.

"Was he really?" He asked again, raising his eyebrows.

Helga did the mature thing, and ignored the fuck out of whatever kind of tone he was trying to use with her.

"You had quite the head of hair, then." He still did, but now it suited him. Now it looked like something he managed to grow himself, instead of a small animal that chose to take up residence on his head. "Jesus, time flies."

"Tell me about it." The girl giggled.

"Hey-" Gerald walked up, moving on from whatever it was Helga was trying to say. "Is anyone else here?'

"Oh, are you looking for Lila?" Helga asked, leaning on the register. "Sorry, man, she left for lunch like 15 minutes ago."

It wouldn't surprise Helga, him looking for her. She didn't think they particularly ran in the same circle, but she wouldn't have ruled it out either. Gerald looking past Helga gave her a chance to really look at him.

He was tall, but that was expected from when they were kids. Overall, he had just…grown into himself. He looked muscular but not stacked, tall but not lanky. He looked older than Helga knew he was. The same couldn't be said for Stinky, but Helga probably could have told you that would happen as a child.

"Anyone else?" Jake/Stinky/Button squinted at her. Helga shook my head.

"No such luck. Can I help you find someone?"

Gerald looked back and forth between Helga's collar bone and hairline, which was kind of an odd view-point, in her opinion. "Nah," he set his cup down next to the girl's. "I don't think you know him."

Helga frowned because it was a very abnormal thing to say, but rang up the check all the same. And then the loose button's yogurt.

"Well, thanks." Gerald picked up his cup with one hand, and let the other rest on the back of his girlfriend's hip. He seemed to pause examine Helga one more time. "You look good," he almost hesitated, just a breath's width of space in order for the sentence to sound strange, "Helga G. Pataki." He turned towards the door, turning his girl with him. "See you around," He called without turning to look at Helga. The button, once again, trailed behind.

"Thanks guys." Helga said plainly as she heard the door close.

She had walked all the way to the back and reassumed her prior seat before remembering that he hadn't needed prompting to know her name, her full name- he just remembered.

And it took her five minutes to recognize a former classmate.

Then again, "Jake" hadn't destroyed Helga's entire life the way Gerald did, so it was reasonable of her to be a little shook.

Helga had 8 texts from Cass, but she hit the call back button instead of reading them. It was the kind of shit that just begged to be talked about.

"Cass!" Helga shouted it the moment she heard that the call connected. Maybe it was a little over-enthusiastically.

"Are you alright?" She sounded startled.

"You are never going to believe the shit that just happened to m-"

"Jeez, you scared me. I mean, I know it was kind of big new-"

"I mean seriously, this is the kind of stuf-"

"And I know it really shouldn't matter, not anymore anyway, because it was such a long time ago but-"

"Like, god, just when you think you're free of high school and everyone in it-"

"But he was still such a major part of your life-"

"Everyone goes to the college smack dab in the middle of fucking town-"

"And I really do think he is majorly responsible for the person you ended up becoming-"

"And it's like, JESUS, when do I get to breath?"

The line went blank, and Helga realized she thought they were having one conversation, and Cass very well could be thinking they're having another.

"How did you know Gerald was in the shop?" Helga asked hesitantly.

Her frozen yogurt had melted.

"Gerald? When did we start talking about Gerald?"

"If we're not talking about Gerald, then who are we talking about?"

"Wait, back up, when did you see Gerald? How did he come into this at all?"

"He just came into the shop,"

"Oh my god, wait, was a-"

Helga missed the other half of her sentence due the store bell ringing. She looked up and saw her darling red head returning from her meal. Seven minutes early, naturally, but Helga was impressed she managed to leave at all today.

Cass would kill her for it later, but Helga hung up on her.

She had evidence to dispose of.

* * *

Not for nothing, Stinky "Jake" Peterson didn't consider himself to be too much of a _weird_ guy. Really, he didn't. Maybe he used to be, he couldn't really remember, but he wasn't now.

Yet for some reason, cup of fro-yo in hand, trailing slightly behind Gerald and his girlfriend, Mariella, he could not stop thinking about Helga G. Pataki's hair.

It was just so _long_ , reaching past her waist, before feathering out into slightly unhealthy ends.

He shoved another spoonful into his mouth.

He supposed it was rather naive of him to expect ugly people to be ugly forever, considering his own nose forgave him eventually and allowed the rest of his face to grow around it. She just looked, as Gerald said, good. Her hair was long and her eyebrows were dark and thick but not connected. Her skin was clear, although she might have been wearing makeup, Jake couldn't tell those kinds of things. He could tell even with the black uniform of the shop, that she was thin and lean. Maybe she didn't sport the girlish curves that Mari, the girl in front of him, sported, but he doubted it bothered any of her suitors. Everyone seemed short to Jake, but not Helga, despite him probably having a good eight inches on her. It was probably just the way she carried herself, long arms leaning on the register while her hair flopped over her waist.

He supposed it _was_ weird to be that shell-shocked by an old classmate on a mission to find an old classmate.

He meant, they found an old classmate but not the one they wanted to find.

From the clutch that petite, 5' 2" Mari had on Gerald's arm, her short bobbed hair falling over her tanned shoulders as she leant her head on his arm, he could just tell that Gerald was a lot more disappointed than he wanted to let on.

They had very little to go on, other than a Facebook status announcing their former classmates re-arrival in town, and Lila's comment to him to come visit her at work that day.

But all the same, Gerald's shoulders were slumped the very minimal amount that he ever let them be, and after ten years of friendship, Jake would think that he would know him well enough to call it.

He was disappointed.

After all, Gerald reaching out to the friend he hadn't attempted to contact in years would be a lot harder than just bumping into him.

* * *

Helga dropped the yogurt into the garbage with just barely enough time to cover it with a paper towel, and get her hands into the sink so it looked like she was accomplishing anything, before Lila power walked into the back.

"Helga!" Helga heard her call.

"I'm back here," She called, letting the questioning tone slip into her voice.

"Girl," Helga said as she pushed through the Employee's Only door "the store is like, half the size of my pinky, I'm here, you don't have to call for me-"

"I have something _really_ important to tell you." She said quickly, looking flustered. "I really have just no plum clue how I've forgotten, as you might maim me for not telling you sooner."

Lila was looking at Helga so intensely it made her heart skip a beat. Like, shit, what was she in for here? Getting fired? Won the lottery? Was Lila secretly in love with her?

My eyes drifted down to the line in-between her waist in her hips. Helga wouldn't necessarily _mind_ a confession of love.

Also, she loved drama.

It was something Helga had learned to just accept about herself.

"So," She swallowed. "Oh, this is just, this is really-"

Helga braced herself for the ever-so that Lila was inevitably going to say.

"Really _fucking_ hard, Helga." Helga blinked at her. She walked to the chair by the computer to set her things down on it. "Normally, you know me, I cut to the chase, no time for dawdling, but shit-"

Her curse words sounded like the drip of a leaky faucet, small plinks of words, soon to be forgotten.

It was really rather endearing.

"this conversation has probably been years in the coming, and truthfully, I've never really confronted you about it for fear of you pounding me."

"…pounding…you?" Helga hadn't heard the phrase used in years.

"Not that you even _do_ that, anymore!" Lila looked up at her, obviously mildly panicked. "I mean, who was the last person you physically hit?"

Helga just saw him not ten minutes ago.

"It's been a while," Helga admitted, leaning back on the sink and crossing her arms.

"I knew it!" She announced…proudly? Helga couldn't tell. "Oh, _gosh_ , I've spent so much time procrastinating on this that I've just _really_ put myself into a pickle here. I have no time to do this with _tact_ or _grace_ or _anything_ like I had been _planning. I_ mean, Jesus, Lila, why wouldn't you just mention it earlier?"  
Helga, for maybe one of the first times in her life, had no idea what to say. Not even a drop of one dropping into the ocean of her mind. She was just standing there staring at Lila. The girl, who wasn't necessarily _short_ by nature, but shorter than Helga, paced. Her frame was more filled out than Helga's, but in a way that definitely suited her. She had her hair, still thick and red, tucked up into two buns at the back of her head. It might of looked ridiculous on anyone else who tried, but it certainly didn't look ridiculous on Lila.

"Maybe you should sit?" Lila considered, coming towards Helga with her arms out stretched. "No, that's just, that's _stupid_ , that's what that is." She paced away.

The doorbell rang.

"God, WHAT do you WANT!" Lila huffed angrily, stomping towards the door to the lobby.

"Hi, how are y'all this afternoon?" Helga heard her greet cheerfully.

Helga couldn't help it, she laughed.

* * *

It wasn't every day that Sid got a call from Cass, but it also wasn't exactly a rare occurrence either. He was just listening to music on his run at the Hillwood University gym, when his familiar ringtone starting playing overtop of it. He looked down and considered waiting till his run was done to call her back, but he didn't and hopped off the treadmill instead.

He knew that calling people wasn't so much a thing the millenials did nowadays, but it became a habit in their threesome between him, Helga, and Cassidy, so often that it just stuck.

"Hey baby, what's up?" He answered the phone, trying to fumble the cap off his water bottle with one hand.

"I'm pissed at Helga and I need to rant."

"'Aight," He leaned back on the treadmill, letting his gaze fall on himself in the mirror across from it. He laughed. "I can accept that." He looked small in the mirror, which made him frown. He wasn't small. He wasn't _giant_ but he wasn't _small_ either. He shook his long, dark, curled at the ends hair back, so he could better adjust his phones placement on his ear without putting his water bottle down.

"Shoot."

"She just, she called me today, and I'm really glad to hear from her but I just…She always.."

"You…just?" Sid felt a grin slide on to his face. "She…always?"

"She's so," Cassidy paused, taking in a deep breath. "Our best friend is just _such_ a shitty listener, Sid."

Sid laughed. "But she's an _excellent_ talker, isn't she?"

"Yes, she is, but that's not really the point, Sid. When I have news to tell her, I'd love if she just learned to…stop. talking."

"But will she?" Sid sat on the edge of his treadmill, like a total prick, because he was going to be _right_ back on it as soon as Cass hung up. He ignored the glares of other gym-goers. "I mean, that's the real question."

"Well, I don't know, I guess not, but-"

"Well then, there lies your answer, in and of itself. We can either wish she wouldn't, or we can accept that she will." He took another swig of water. "I know what choice I've made."

"Oh, will you shut up, Sid?"

"Honestly?" He looked at himself in the mirror once again. "Probably not."

"Do you even want to hear the gossip that I called her about in the first place?" Cass sounded hostile, but not _hostile_ , because that just wasn't in her nature.

"Well, duh, who do you think I am?"

"A dick, but I'll tell you anyway. I swear to God, the two of you, you're both constantly competing to see who can be more annoying than the other."

"Am I winning?"

"Do you want my news or not, Sidney?" She deadpanned.

Sid laughed again. "I'm done, I swear, shoot."

"You'll never guess who's back in Hillwood."

The grin slid off of Sid's face as he leaned forward, eyebrows furrowing together at the seriousness of Cass's tone. "Who?"

The line paused. Sid could only guess that Cass was probably trying to figure out a dramatic or witty way to say it, but she never was as quick on the draw with those kinds of things the way he and Helga were.

"He was gone f- no, he is short, well he was, judging from this picture I would say he probably isn't no- wait, hold on,"

Sid was trying really hard not to laugh.

" I, oh- for fuck's sake, it's Arnold."

The grin slid off his face once again.

"Our Arnold?" Sid stood up quickly, affectively spilling his bottle of water all over himself.

"Well, I've never met him so he certainly isn't _my_ Arnold," Cass said quickly, "But if you want to claim him as your Arnold, well that's your prerogative I guess."  
Sid was power-walking out of the gym quicker than his mind, he was walking before he even had an idea of where he was going.

"Your breathing got heavy," Cass commented. "What are you doing?"

"What do you think I'm doing?" He cut back bitterly, throwing open the doors and hustling down the front steps. "I'm going to find Helga."


	2. Chapter 2

_[[a/n a story, told by no one you wanted to hear it from:_

 _this got too long too fast]]_

* * *

Gerald had to laugh on the inside at the irony, as he walked away from the shop with Mari on his arm, Jake behind them.

It certainly wasn't the first time a trip looking for Arnold ended in Helga G Pataki.

He supposed he felt a little lucky that this time it ended with a lot less yelling.

* * *

The sun was hot on Gerald's head, he thought his hair must be soaked with _at least_ two inches of sweat. It was April, maybe it was late April, but still April. April shouldn't be this hot _anywhere_. He cursed himself for not getting it cut before he came, but class trips to South America were not supposed to leave 11 year olds alone in the jungle. Let alone, 11 year olds alone in a jungle trying to save not only one 11 year old's parents, but an _entire race of people_.

His mom was going to kill him when he got home.

He ran his wrist over his face, cringing at the amount of sweat collected on it. His shirt was torn, he had a cut on his forehead, a rash around his ankles, and worst for worst, he could not find Arnold.

"Arnold," He yelled hotly. "Hey, Arnold!" He yelled again, trumping around through the hilly greenery in a most Pataki-esque fashion.

It was too hot for this.

"Arnold?" He called one more time, weakly, feeling the effects of dehydration really hitting him. He felt more dizzy than he had ever felt in his life. He wasn't looking where he was going, and when he put his foot out and there wasn't anything under it, he almost sent himself tumbling face down into a hole.

When he looked down, he thought he was either having a fever-dream, or a hallucination.

When he realized it was neither, he wish he had just fallen, hit his head, and blacked out for several days.

No man deserves to be sun-burnt, cut up, exhausted, and then confronted with his best friend's lips on Helga G Pataki's.

He'd spare _anyone_ the pain.

"Man," he called down, face squinted up in pain, resting a hand on his forehead. "Tell me you are not doing what I think you're doing."

Arnold jumped up. Helga seemed to dazed to be doing anything. "Gerald!" He shouted up, "It is not what it looks like- we were, I was-" Helga suddenly snapped out of it.

"The dumb Football-Head was just helping me get something, get something out of-"

"Out of her eye, that's it!" Arnold finished for her. "That's all, haha, just a bit of dust."

Gerald could only imagine the look of pain on his own face.

"Whatever you say, Arnold."

"Now, get us out of here before I kill this yutz & frame you for it!" Helga yelled at Gerald.

Gerald took the moment to dramatically fall back and layout on the grassy earth behind him, engulfed with leaves.

"Out of all the girls on the planet," He whispered to himself. "He had to go and pick Helga G. Pataki."

"YOU'VE GOT APPROXIMATELY FIVE SECONDS BEFORE SOMEONE BACK HOME NEEDS TO WRITE A FOOT-BALL SHAPED WILL!"

"You're a bold kid, Arnold," Gerald whispered, shutting his eyes to thump his head against the earth. "A bold kid."

* * *

Nadine didn't know _what_ anyone else was talking about when they said that Helga, Gerald, and Arnold had ruined their trip to South America. They were in an awesome place, and they got to see so much amazing wildlife, and so what if they had missed the concert and the shopping malls planned for the end of the trip? They were there _four days longer_ than they were promised! Which gave them 11 whole days to take in the nature!

She was having an excellent time, and maybe was the only student who wasn't mad about their friend's little, as she could call it, _excursion_.

So, it was probably a good thing that it was her and not Rhonda who stumbled upon Arnold and Helga tucked behind the group in the airport, waiting for their flight home. Nadine was just looking for the bathroom. Actually, it was probably a good thing at any point in time, that she found them instead of Rhonda, as Rhonda wasn't great with secrets, Nadine had learned.

Nadine knew it wasn't polite to spy, so she tried her hardest not to, she did, but it was almost as fascinating as the bugs she had seen in her tent that week. So, maybe she did stay tucked just out of eyesight and just in earshot.

"It's okay, Arnold, I understand-" Helga was saying, and she pressed even further to hear better. "It wouldn't be the first time we got caught up," she coughed, "In the heat of the moment."

"No, Helga," Arnold replied. "It wouldn't be the first time we _lied_ about getting caught up in the heat of the moment." She heard the sound of his sneakers on the linoleum tile. "I _like_ you Helga. I mean, I _like-like_ you." Nadine felt her eyes widen to saucers. "I really do. And you can push me, or call me a Football Head, or do whatever will make you feel better, but I _know_ no one would help a person they hate the way you helped me this weekend. Let alone, have fun doing it."

"Well, I-"

"Oh, come on, Helga. You can't tell me you had no fun. We jumped off a waterfall!"

"Now, you listen here, Hair Boy." Her tone was threatening. "Let's talk about _this_ , regardless of feelings which I-" Nadine strained her ears to hear, but then realized Helga wasn't talking. "may or may not have,"

"…right?" Arnold pressed.

"You're not making this easy, Arnold." Helga sounded very flustered, and it was all Nadine could do to not feel bad for her.

"I'm sorry, Helga. I just don't think you're being honest. With me, or you."

No one said anything for a moment. Nadine felt a bit of guilt sit in her for listening to such a private conversation.

But not that much.

"And I don't think that's fair to either of us."

"Well, what are you expecting?" Helga sounded exasperated. "Me to be your _girlfriend_?"

Nadine didn't know what to make of the silence.

"Is that _really_ that unreasonable?" Arnold asked quietly.

Nadine had to smack a hand over her mouth to hold in the gasp.

"It is, when you don't _like_ me!"

"How many times do I have to tell you, that I _only_ don't like you when you're being all, going all, being so-"

"Being so WHAT, Football-Head?"

 _"THIS!"_

Nadine really felt gross now. She had been inside, wasn't sweaty, recently showered, but all the same, she felt _gross_. Like slime was covering her body. Nadine was about to walk away, but Arnold spoke again.

"Tell me the truth, Helga. Do you, or do you not like me?"

"Well I-"

" _Helga_."

"YOU ALREADY KNOW THE ANSWER, ARNOLD. WHY ARE YOU MAKING ME SAY IT?"

"BECAUSE I DON'T UNDERSTAND WHAT'S SO BAD ABOUT IT?"

"THAT'S BECAUSE _EVERYONE_ LIKES YOU!" The conversation went quiet again. Nadine sunk to sit down beside the potted plant she was situated next to. "You don't have to worry about being picked on if anyone finds out, because no one would, because everyone likes you, Arnold? Don't you get that? It's just _different_ for me."

"It shouldn't be."

"Yeah, well, it is."

"No, it shouldn't be because everyone should like you. Everyone would like you, if you would only-"

"If I would only what?"

"Be YOU! And not," He stumbled for a moment, " _whoever_ this is!"

Nadine was about to crawl away, she swears she was, but Helga spoke and she just needed to know the resolution to the whole thing.

"Arnold, I'm willing to try. Try…having _us_ …having _us_ be a _thing_ , if-"

"If?"

"If?" Nadine whispered to herself, before smacking a hand on her mouth, once again.

"And _only_ if, we keep this," She paused "a secret."

"But, Helga-"

"No buts, Arnold." Another pause. "I'm afraid it's non-negotiable."

"…and the being… you? Part of it?"

"We'll call it a work in progress."

Arnold laughed, and there was a pause again, and Nadine could almost guarantee you something she didn't see happened during it. She was almost glad she couldn't tell you what it was.

"Whatever you say, Helga, whatever you say."

When they walked past the plant, past her, holding hands, before breaking up at the end of the hallway to walk in different directions, Nadine drew a little x over her heart.

She owed them the trip of a lifetime, studying bugs she'd thought she'd never even get close to.

She could keep a little secret for them.

* * *

If you had told 11 year old Rhonda two years ago when she was in 4th grade that the key to getting Helga to calm down for once would be _Arnold_ , she would have laughed at you.

And then she would have taken credit for the relationship, after all, her marriage forecaster did call it, after all.

But, here she was, in her sixth grade graduation gown, proven right by time.

She watched it happen, watched a flustered Helga power-walking by her to get to her spot closer to the front of the line, as they were in alphabetical order, when she crashed straight into Eugene. She fell back, before scrambling up, sleeve rolled up, ready to throw a punch. Arnold stepped out of his place in line and grabbed her elbow, midair.

"Helga," he reprimanded gently, "I'm sure it was an accident."

Rhonda winced, ready to watch Arnold get socked, but to her, and everyone else's astonishment, Helga dropped her arm, staring at Arnold's hold on it. He stayed firm, while reaching down to offer Eugene a hand up. "Are you alright?"

Eugene didn't say anything at all, just nodded vigorously and accepted his help up.

He scurried away as soon as he was on two feet.

"See," Arnold turned in to Helga, keeping his hold on her arm. "It's all fine."

Rhonda would have payed money to see Helga's face, but she got the bad side of the show.

Rhonda wondered if he had _any_ idea of the _attention_ he had drawn to them. She was practically leaning in with the rest of her class to hear what they would say next.

He dropped her arm, but to rub a bit of dirt off her gown and straighten her hat.

She missed whatever he said next, but it hadn't mattered because Harold bellowed loudly enough that Rhonda could hear him all the way from the back of the line. He tottered out of his place in line to laugh and point.

"ARNOLD'S GOT A GIRLFRIEND!"

The whole line of kids split into giggles, Rhonda included.

Helga turned enough so Rhonda could see her face. She was mad, her brow was settling into her eyes. She let her head drop in the way it did when she was angry, raising her shoulders up.

"AS IF I WOULD EVE-" She began to shout- but Rhonda hear Arnold's words, which he shouted over her, louder, and crystal clear as water

"SO WHAT IF I DO?"

The line of kids hushed.

Rhonda thought that in that moment every kid in their grade, including Helga, turned to stare dumb-founded at Arnold.

But not Rhonda.

No, Rhonda had only time to look at Helga.

She didn't see fury.

She seemed touched, mouth agape, but curling slightly up at the edges, eyes soft, as Arnold stared around at their classmates.

And that was just about all the confirmation Rhonda needed.

She opened her mouth to say something, but a flustered Principal Wartz, to appear and yell at them.

"What is with the yelling, kids, and what are so many of you doing out of line? Hurry up, back in line, it's almost time to walk in!"

Helga, staring at Arnold, snapped up, and made to push past him. He grabbed her hand.

Now, Rhonda, who had gotten, frankly, the _worst_ view ever for this exchange, the best drama of the year (save for Helga, Arnold and Gerald almost dying in South America,) couldn't have told you exactly what Arnold did.

However, she did have it on pretty good authority from some very reliable sources that Arnold smiled at her, and squeezed her hand.

She could, however, testify as an eye witness as to how Helga responded, and she would swear on the Bible that it was true.

Helga smiled.

Wide.

* * *

Sheena had almost forgotten she was moving in the excitement of the San Lorenzo trip. That was until she got home and was bombarded with boxes, and feelings of worry about making new friends in Texas.

"Everyone is worried about making new friends," Eugene told her as they packed up her bedroom. "We're going into Middle School, there will be 5 other elementary schools worth of people there!" He lamented, holding up her halloween costume from last year up, "Do you want this?"

Sheena shook her head and he tossed it into the get-rid-of basket.

She appreciated Eugene's words, but she didn't think they were necessarily _fair_. Just because they were going to a new school, didn't mean anything was going to change. Harold was still fat, Gerald was still cooler than the rest of them. They all still played baseball in the empty lot.

They were carrying a load of boxes down the truck, passing her parents having a small tiff of an argument in the kitchen. She and Eugene weren't saying anything but it didn't feel too awkward.

She just couldn't accept that he thought everything around here was going to be different, because nothing was changing for them.

They dumped their stuff on the trucks when two blonde rounded the corner. They were laughing and holding hands.

It was _Helga_ and _Arnold_.

"Oh, hey guys!" Arnold shouted from across the street, waving with his other hand. He didn't drop her hand. "Do you need any help, Sheena?"

Helga was smiling at them.

Sheena looked at Eugene and tried to confer everything she was thinking with one look.

You were right, she thought, I'm sorry.

Everything _was_ changing.

* * *

Pheobe understood that Helga and Arnold getting together was supposed to be Helga's deepest fantasy, and not her own.

But in the interest of ardent honesty, Pheobe couldn't be more pleased with it.

There was much less "forgetting!" and many more laughs, and they weren't so much couple-y, as they were friend-y. Granted, there were several outings that Pheobe knew very well that she and Gerald weren't as welcome on, and that suited her just fine.

It didn't seem to suit Gerald fine _at all_ , but that could be a work in progress for the summer. And if Pheobe had to spend more time with him to soften the blow a little bit, well that was a sacrifice she was willing to make.

All in the interest of helping Helga, of course.

"So," Gerald announced proudly as they strolled out of the park that morning. He maintained his position firmly in between Helga and Arnold, wrapping an arm around both of them. Pheobe walked next to Helga on the end. "What shall we do to kill time in between now and baseball?"

"We can start with you removing your hand from my person," Helga grumbled, shoving his arm off her body roughly. "Before you lose it."

"Helga," Arnold warned gently, crossing in front of Gerald to her to hold her hands. She held his too, but more aggressively. Pheobe moved from behind Helga to stand at her side.

"I mean, criminy, Football-Head, no one told me you two were a package deal."

"Well, we ARE!" Gerald shouted, grabbing Arnold's shoulders, poking his head over the side. "Two peas in a pod," He switched his head to the other side of Arnold's, "Yin & Yang," he went back to the other side "PB & J!" He shouted.

"You're about to be peanut butter and broken," Helga grumbled, dropping Arnold's hands to ball hers up at her sides.

"At least I'm not peanut butter and JEALOUS?" He pushed Arnold out of the way, right on top of Pheobe. Normally getting people shoved near her general being was something that Pheobe was used to, but she didn't see it coming, so she fell down to the ground, Arnold tumbling down with her.

"Now look what you made me do!" Gerald yelled at her, gesturing to their friends on the ground. Pheobe pushed up on her hands, one of her legs on top of Arnold's, who propped himself up on his elbows. She gave him to look to ask if he was okay, and he smiled in return.

"ME?" Helga yelled back, taking a step forward to get in Gerald's face, "IF YOU COULD STOP TRYING TO BREAK OUR PEOPLE, THAT WOULD BE GREAT."

"WELL MAYBE," Gerald got even more in her space, and Pheobe didn't think that was possible. "I WOULDN'T BE, IF SOMONE WOULD STOP TRYING TO BREAK A _FRIENDSHIP_."

"I'M NOT TRYING TO _BREAK_ ANYTHING. IT'S YOU," She jabbed a finger into his chest, "WHO'S- **LITERALLY** \- PUSHING HIM AWAY!"

He grabbed her hand. "I WASN'T TRYING TO PUSH HIM ANYWHERE, MORE LIKE AN _OBNOXIOUS BRAT_ INSTEAD, BUT HE, AS HE ALWAYS DOES, GOT HIS BIG OL' HEAD IN THE **WAY**."

Pheobe just flopped back on to the ground to stare up at the sky. "Is this our life now, Ice Cream?" She mumbled into his elbow.

Arnold laughed, so Pheobe missed whatever Helga yelled in response to Gerald. He flopped back too. "It looks like it, but I have faith. They're just too…alike, in some ways." He tucked his hands behind his head. Pheobe's head was lying mere centimeters away from his chest, their legs still entwined on the grass. "Wait…" He heard the confusion leak into his voice. "Did you just call me 'ice cream'?"

"NOW WHAT," Gerald turned to put his focus on the two of them laying in the grass "IN FRESH HELL IS THIS?"

Pheobe blinked at his _curse word_ , but supposed she couldn't be too surprised, they were gonna be _twelve_ soon, after all. She just giggled, and kept her eyes on the blue skies.

Arnold leaned up. "We're cloud watching." He explained easily. "I think Pheobe just saw a really good one- some _ice cream_ in the sky."

Pheobe could tell herself that Helga hadn't seen the wink Arnold sent in Pheobe's direction, but that would be a lie.

"Well," Gerald said uncomfortably, "budge up then, I bet I can see 10 things in clouds before Pataki sees ONE." Arnold grinned at Pheobe, before rolling away so that Gerald could settle in between them. Pheobe tried not to notice that Gerald didn't mind when Pheobe was next to Helga, but when it was Arnold, it was an issue.

Helga had a smug grin on as she towered above the three lying in the grass. "You have no idea the depths of my creativity, Tall Hair Boy." She grinned widely then, and Pheobe relished in that that grin was directed at her.

"Well then," Arnold leaned up again, offering his hand to Helga. "Enlighten us?"

Pheobe didn't think she'd ever tire of the small flutter in her chest that she got when Helga accepted it, and laid down next to Arnold.

As they sat there, somewhat competitively pointing out pictures in the sky, she couldn't help but feel like this was the correct order for them to be laying in.

Helga, Arnold, Gerald, Pheobe.

Something about it just felt so _right_ to her.

And if the hand Gerald wasn't using to point things out just so happened to be lying just _so_ , so that his pinky rested on hers?

Well, that was for Pheobe to know, and no one else to find out.

* * *

"Where are they?" Sid paced huffily between the benches. It wasn't too hot for the middle of July, all things considered, to Eugene.

"Yeah-" Harold whined, slamming down on one, "I'm gonna be starving by the time the game even _starts_."

Eugene stared around at what he guessed he could only call his _friends_. They used to be bound together, in the fourth grade, merely by being in the same class. But years had passed since then, everyone was taller, he thought he was smarter, and heck, Helga, Arnold and Gerald had almost _died_ numerous times in the passing years.

And still somehow they all ended up back at the same lot for baseball.

Save, today, for three of their players.

And probably, Eugene could admit on the inside, their three _key_ players.

"Can't we just…play anyway?" Nadine asked timidly.

Sid rolled his eyes. "Not with _all three_ of them off doing…whatever it is they do."

"Do you think they're all together?" Eugene asked.

"Where else would they be?" Sid threw his baseball at the wall. It plinked back and he caught it.

Eugene hadn't necessarily considered that. He thought his friends were just being negligent on their own times. He didn't really stop to consider that they weren't there because they had better things to do _together_.

He found himself missing Sheena more than he already was in that moment.

They all stared at the grass.

"Hey y'all," He heard a familiar voice call over them, "what are ya'll doin', I thought we had a game to play!"

"Gerald?" He heard Sid call, and he looked up at him. "Where the heck have you been?"

"Calm down, man, I was just runnin' late." He walked towards them casually, one hand in his pockets, the other holding the bat on his shoulder. He was walking oddly, Eugene noticed, almost as if he was trying to brag about the few inches he had grown seemingly out of nowhere without saying anything at all.

"Pheobe?" Nadine gasped, as the small girl walked around the corner behind him. "Did you want to play with us?"

"No," Pheobe giggled.

"Ah, yea-" Gerald looked back at her, "She wants to stay back and watch today, guys, so no hitting her with a baseball."

"No one's gotten hit with anything," Harold still sounded whiny, "we haven't been able to play."

"Why not?" Gerald asked, bat still situated on his shoulder. "Oh, sorry,"

"Are you sure you don't want to play, Pheobe?" Eugene asked. "It'll be hard for us to play still down two players."

"Two players, wha-" Gerald finally took the time to scope out the field, " _Arnold_." He grumbled.

And Helga, Eugene thought to himself, but Gerald probably already knew that.

This would be the time when Harold, or someone else, would yell out about them kissing in a tree somewhere, but Eugene certainly wasn't going to be the one to do it.

No one said anything, though. They just stared at each other.

For the first time ever, Eugene started to wonder if maybe they were getting too old to be playing baseball in an empty lot.

"Whatever, man, did someone try calling that Robert kid and asking him if he wanted to play."

The kids mumbled between them, no one had.

"I'll do it!" Pheobe piped up, "I have the quarter and everything."

If Eugene's thought wasn't confirmed when Gerald put his hand on Pheobe's back while she held up the piece of scrap paper that Nadine had in her backpack, and he wrote down the number, they were confirmed in the moments after.

It's not like they _kissed_ , or did anything too _incriminating_ , but there was something about the way Gerald patted Pheobe on the lower back, the smile he was giving her when she ran off, the way no one jeered at him about it.

This would probably be their last summer playing baseball in an empty lot.

* * *

Stinky wasn't _insecure_ when he had asked Gerald to play basketball with him that August day. Gerald frowned, probably because they weren't the kind of friends that just hung out without everyone else.

He just thought Gerald was a good dribbler, that was all.

It was a big school, after all, 5 other schools worth of students and then all of them.

It's not like Sid wasn't enough for him, but with Helga, Arnold, Gerald and Pheobe being a constant presence as a foursome that summer, he just wanted some guarantee for the next few weeks when they started school. When he found Gerald by himself at the YYMA, only accompanied by his family, he saw a window of opportunity, especially when he found Gerald grumbling at him because Helga and Arnold's families took a vacation to the beach _purposefully_ this year. So, he saw the opportunity and he snatched it by asking Gerald to hang out with him.

Really, he just wanted to make sure he had a place to sit at lunch.

He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding when Gerald said "okay, sure, man."

* * *

Harold thought it was shame that there were 24 hours in a day, and only 3/4 of one was lunch. That seemed like a waste of time.

It wasn't until he was walking down the hall, lunch bag in hand, lunch bag he got out of his _locker_ for the first time that day, following the other students to what he could only assume was the cafeteria, that he realized he'd need a table to sit at to actually _eat_.

He was glad that their whole seventh grade class would eat lunch together, he wasn't sure if he could handle 8th graders at the moment.

He was standing at the head of the room, by the doors, staring around. He wondered when everyone else got together with people to decide where to eat, because it seemed like everyone else had. He stood there and stared out at all of them.

"Oh, come _on_ , Harold," He heard a familiar voice huff, a familiar small hand cuff on his arm. "I know where we're sitting." She sounded so annoyed. He looked over and there was Rhonda, Nadine on her other side, dragging him towards a table.

He was about to stall his feet and make up an excuse, until he saw where she was dragging him to. Helga and Arnold were sitting next to each other in the middle of a big table, Gerald and Pheobe settling in to sit down across from them. On the other side of the room he saw Sid and Stinky, trays in hand from buying lunch, laughing and heading for the same table.

Harold could all but breath a sigh of relief.

He sat next to Gerald, Sid sat next to Helga, and Stinky sat across from him, next to Pheobe.

"I can't believe, even in Middle School, I'm still stuck with you _geeks_." Rhonda seemed to protest sitting, Nadine standing awkwardly beside her.

"You can sit wherever you want, Rhonda, you don't have to-" Arnold was beginning to speak, but Helga spoke over him.

"Just sit, Lloyd." She bit at her. Arnold laughed, and grabbed Helga's shoulder.

It made Harold feel weird, and he would have shouted something at them if he wasn't already teeth deep in his sandwich.

They had probably _kissed_ at some point in time.

 _Disgusting._

Harold didn't see what happened next, as he was eating and Gerald was telling some kind of story that he was paying half-attention to. Gerald was sitting much closer to Pheobe than he was to Harold. As long as his sandwich didn't sit far away from him, Harold didn't care.

The next time he bothered to look up, it was because Helga had spoken loudly.

"Sit." She commanded to someone. He looked up and saw Brainy hovering towards the edge of the table. To his left, he hadn't noticed Curly appear from nowhere and sit with them, as well as Lila, who sat on Curly's side, leaving just one place vacant on the table. Curly was leaned half way across the table towards Rhonda, who was making a disgusted face. Arnold still had an arm around Helga, leaned on an elbow on the table as he was debating something with Gerald. He leaned back so Helga could look at Brainy. Harold didn't know how she had noticed Brainy was standing there, with Arnold blocking her view so much.

All Harold remembered beyond that was that it was a really, _really_ good sandwich.

* * *

Lila hadn't thought it as so much of a _big deal_ when she decided to sit somewhere else in the end of October. She was on the end of the lunch table, mostly just trying to interfere Curly from bothering Rhonda too, too much.

She liked Middle School. She had made a whole slew of new friends, girls who encouraged her to scribble her name on the cheerleading try-out sheet. She smiled at Gerald and Stinky's names on the basketball sheet.

None of her other, old elementary school friends, seemed to be in her classes. She had one with Helga, History, and they didn't speak much. Lila appreciated that she yelled a lot less now. Stinky seemed to still be sweet on her, by the way he looked at her in her math class. Arnold wasn't in any of her classes, but he wouldn't be very sweet on her anymore, for rather obvious reasons.

That's why she was surprised when she shut her locker that day, and still pretty short boy in a baseball cap was standing there.

"Oh, hello, Arnold!" She exclaimed.

"Hi, Lila." He just appeared to be looking at her.

"Can I help you with something?"

"Did you feel left out?" He asked suddenly, awkwardly fiddling with his hands in front of him. "Of our lunch table I mean?"

"Oh, heavens, no!" She told him, she rearranged her books in her messenger bag. "No, no. I just made some new friends, and they asked me to sit with them. That's all."

"Oh," he seemed relieved.

"Thank you for checking on me, Arnold." Lila said, setting her bag on her shoulder. "It's oh-so appreciated."

"You're welcome, Lila." He started to walk beside her as Lila moved past, she could only assume his next class was in the same direction.

"How's Helga?" She asked quietly as they walked through the busy halls.

"She's good," He grinned, sticking one hand in his pocket, the other on his bag, that he had only half way on. "She's really good." He seemed to Lila to be a boy who was ever-so _smitten_. That made her smile.

"That's what her sister told me." Lila grinned down at him. Arnold blinked at her.

"You talk to Olga?"

"We're email-pals! We talk about everything." She informed him enthusiastically.

"Oh!" He smiled, pulling his bag off his shoulder. "Well, in that case, here." He fumbled inside of his bag for a moment, ripping out a piece of a notebook and hastily jotting something down with a loose pen. "This is my email" he handed her the piece of paper. She looked down at the paper with his email on it, then back up at him, with a smile. "Keep in touch, Lila."

He turned and walked in the other direction. She curled her hand around it.

That Arnold, she thought to herself, tucking the paper into her bag. Too kind for his own good.

* * *

Sid, for what it was worth, didn't hate Middle School as much as he was worried he might. He groaned on the inside when his first class had him sitting in between two people he knew, Rhonda and Helga, but he was also a little thankful.

Now, Thanksgiving approaching by the end of the week, he was actually really thankful to have his first class of the day in the back of the room with Helga.

Rhonda, tapping away on her brand-new phone, not so much.

But Helga, this new found Helga, she was _funny_. She was much funnier when she was muttering things and passing notes at other people's expenses, and not yours.

Sid didn't know what to expect on the first day of school when she walked in, confused, likely lost, like everyone else was on their first day of Middle school. The most stark change was that she was wearing a _sweatshirt_. It was pink, but it had the beach that she visited in the summer with her family written on it with white lettering.

Her hair was also in a pony tail high on the top of her head, with the bow she normally had on top of her head, wrapped around it instead.

Sid knew most people probably didn't notice what others were wearing, but fashion was _kind of_ his thing.

She hadn't done anything about the unibrow yet, but that could happen later.

They didn't really say anything to each other until the beginning of October, when she saw him drawing out astrologic charts in his notebook idly while his teacher rambled on about biology.

"Hey," She poked him, "you like astrology?"

"I do." He whispered back, "you do!?" He whispered incredulously. She nodded at him. "What's your sign?"

"Aries." She replied.

"When's your birthday?"

"March 23rd," She whispered back. "But I was born two weeks late. So, I was almost a…"

"Pisces!" They whispered together with a laugh.

"What a disaster of a pisces I'd be," She laughed, angling her body more towards hers. He noticed she was again wearing that sweatshirt she was on the first day.

"Well, obviously, you weren't meant to be one, or you would be," Sid replied, leaning in a little closer. "So, wait, do you think that when you were-"

"Sid," A strict voice called over the room. He winced. "You will have plenty of time to flirt with Ms. Pataki during your lunch hour, if I could have your attention now, please."

Sid sunk down into his chair, facing forward. He let a few moments pass before scribbling out a note and tossing it on Helga's desk.

 _I would never do that to Arnold._

It tossed back on to his.

 _Oh, please, Sid._

 _Me neither._

He smiled, that cool November morning, just thinking about it.

When he walked into biology there was already a yawning Helga in the room and a paper on his desk.

This, of course, was an astrological analyzation of Gerald, whom Sid could only guess Helga had no choice but to become close with.

He looked up at her and smiled, and she leaned in.

"Go on, read it, I really want to know what you think!" She encouraged.

He was tired, it was cold, but all the same: having first period with Helga was nice.

* * *

Curly was late to lunch that day after a teacher held him late for yelling out in class. He thought it would be funny, he thought people would laugh, but everyone just turned and stared.

He felt bad about it, now. He just wanted to sit with his friends and forget the whole thing.

He was walking towards his table, lunch bag in hand, and stopped on a dime. Just within ear shot if he strained. But that wasn't it, it was that Rhonda was missing.

"I don't know," Nadine seemed to be answering Arnold's question. "Wherever she's sitting now, I certainly wasn't invited."

"You're always welcome here, Nadine." Arnold told her.

The table was different now, instead of being five on one side, and four on the other, it was four and four. Brainy had switched sides to fill in Curly and Lila's spots.

His friends hadn't even noticed he was gone.

And he could tell himself that Rhonda hadn't moved to avoid him, but he wasn't sure if that was true or not.

He turned on heel, walking straight out of the cafeteria. He took his glasses off as he power walked. If no one liked him, fine, he didn't have to be him.

There was probably someone else he could be.

There was only a few days before Christmas break, and when they came back, he'd be different.

He'd be a new man, new clothes, new attitude but most importantly: new friends.

* * *

Their lunch table, as everyone at it on the day before they left for Christmas break had returned after Christmas break too, was a tiny ecosystem in and of itself. It worked because it was dependent on each other.

If Sid wasn't there, Sid wouldn't be either, and maybe Pheobe would switch sides to sit with Helga, but then Gerald would look bizarre on his side with neither his _girlfriend_ or his best friend. But, on the same token, if Sid had sat on the other side, or something else, the same issues would occur.

It worked because it did.

Brainy could only guess that was how most friend groups operated.

It also worked, in Brainy's opinion, largely dependently on Arnold. Well, it certainly wasn't dependent on Brainy.

When Curly and Rhonda stopped sitting at their table in December, Brainy switched sides to even it out, four and four on each side. No one noticed, of course. Not even Nadine, whom he used to sit next to.

In fact, if anything, the table seemed more imbalanced, because Arnold was no longer smack in the middle. That's where he belonged. At a regular dining table, the most important people were gauged by how close you were to the head of the tables.

At their table, your importance was gauged by how close you were to Arnold.

Maybe that's why Brainy had such a bad feeling in his stomach when Arnold stood up that day.

"So, guys," He said quietly enough as to not shout so other tables wouldn't hear, but loud enough to catch everyone's attention from their individual conversation. "I have something to tell you all."

He laughed nervously, and Brainy didn't know why, but his throat was in his stomach.

"So, I just got back from my trip to see my parents again, and, well, basically it was decided, in the interest of their science, and me, well, always being here, and that it was, basically-"

"You're moving out there to be with them, aren't you?" Helga said quietly, interrupting him.

"Yeah," Arnold's shoulders slumped a little. "Yeah, I am." Before he couldn't even finish his sentence, Helga had pushed up from the table, picked up her backpack, and stormed out of the cafeteria.

Arnold sighed, letting his head fall down so his chin pressed into his chest. "I should have expected that."

You should have, Brainy agreed with him in his mind, so why didn't you?

"Don't you want to," Gerald's voice was hushed, his body turned into Arnold's. "I don't know, follow her, man?"

Arnold, to Brainy, and everyone else's, surprise, sat back down. "And say what, Gerald?" He set his chin in his palm. "I'm still moving."

Brainy realized he had begun to breath heavily again, and tried his best to conceal it. He stared down the table, at Arnold, and the vacant space in between him and Sid, at Pheobe and her gaze stuck firmly on the table.

Was nobody going to do anything?

To Brainy's surprise, the next person to speak was Sid.

"When do you leave, Arnold?"

And that's how it was, the focus was back on Arnold. That's how it always was. Arnold could hit someone with a car, and they'd all worry about whether or not it was dented.

They were all still turned into him, Brainy on the edge, as he always was, perched on the edge of the group. His breathing, as it always was, was getting hard to keep inaudible.

And so, he stood, and did as he always did.

He went after Helga.

No one noticed.

* * *

Arnold didn't exactly know why, but the first time he had internet connection in years, he made a facebook account, per Lila's instructions. He didn't read news, or check his email. He was sitting on his father's laptop, normally reserved for research and research alone, given to him to do whatever he pleased with.

And he made a facebook.

He also didn't know why the first friend request he sent was to Gerald, sitting in the hot, posh hotel room, he had forgotten to turn the air on. Gerald, and not Lila, the friend who had actually bothered to write him, and wrote him for six years continuously.

Even when he hadn't written back.

He wasn't sure how he felt with Gerald, if he was angry, or upset, or just over him in general. But he clicked through his profile pictures, watching him age backwards, all the way to his first one, posted in the summer of 2010.

It was him and Arnold, grinning, at Gerald's basketball match, taken only a few days before Arnold got on the plane. Arnold realized, a little bitterly, that the time in between when this was taken and when it was posted was a whopping six months. In which Gerald had written to him only _once_.

The caption said "My main man Arnold- off to live another adventure entirely, but this time, without me :( He'll be back before we know it though, and in the mean time, hit me up, I've got some craaaazy stories about the two of us xD !"

It was funny, Arnold thought as he stared at the picture of them, the knack that people had for telling stories that weren't entirely theirs.


	3. Chapter 3

Lila truly couldn't fathom how exactly she got herself so very deep into the hole she was sitting in. It started so very…innocent? In a way?

I mean, outright _lying_ to one of your very best friends for well over five years straight couldn't exactly be considered innocent when you say it all, out-right, like that.

But Lila, from the bottom of her heart, had meant well by the whole thing, she _really_ had.

She stared at the girl, grown to be really quite beautiful, leaning on the register in front of her, chatting with a customer. Her heart had been pounding out of her chest for three days straight as she procrastinated on talking to Helga, but she couldn't help the small swell of pride she had inside of it from coming up.

Helga had grown and overcame ever-so much and Lila was just glad to be some small part of it. She looked a little like Olga now, another dear friend of Lila's, but in a different way. She looked more grounded than Olga, like she not only belonged on the earth but that she was _made_ of it. She looked, for lack of a better word, _real_.

She suddenly turned and looked at Lila, just staring at her. Lila's best response was to smile. Helga furrowed her brows, but she smiled back at her. Lila was just trying to mentally transmit to her how she felt: "I'm just so proud of you." Lila thought aggressively.

A ding from Lila's phone, still tucked in her pocket from her break, reminded her of her task at hand.

Right, Lila thought, _that_. That was gonna be a son of a bitch.

* * *

Sid imagined he probably looked pretty fucking stupid, power walking in his gym clothes, away from the gym. If he was being logical about the entire situation, he would go back to his room first, shower, change, and then take his bike to the shop.

But Sid wasn't really _logical_ about a lot of things.

It was only 9 or so blocks away, at any rate. He was turning a corner, checking his phone quickly and saw that Cass had texted him.

CASSerole 2:42 pm

wtf is with my friends & hanging up on me today?

He grinned, ready to type his response, when he smacked straight into another person, bouncing backwards.

He was regaining balance, apologies already rendering in the back of his mind, when the person started shrieking at him.

"Out of all the people in Hillwood," he thought, "it had to be _you_ , and it had to be _today_."

* * *

"So, Lils-" Helga winced inwardly at the name choice. She was the nickname queen, admittedly, and felt almost uncomfortable calling anyone she was even mildly close with by their full name. There was just nothing good to make out of _Lila_. "What's the big deal you were going to tell me about?" She asked as she pushed into the backroom, hearing the door bell ring as the people she just helped exited the shop. Lila was standing at their food prep table, cutting strawberries for their toppings bar.

Helga saw her eyes widen unnaturally. She had, thus far, managed to feign mild disinterest at whatever Lila was freaking out about, but it felt like someone was playing jump rope with Helga's intestines. She had never seen Lila so worked up about anything.

"Helga," She sighed, letting her hands rest on the counter. "I need your help." Helga leaned against the pole in the middle of the room, watching Lila's shoulders fall in on themselves. She could almost see the tenseness in her shoulders through the thick black polo Lila was wearing.

"Okay," Helga said plainly. "What do you need?"

Lila turned around, peeling off her gloves. "I touched the counter, contaminated now," she explained timidly as she threw them out. Helga raised an eyebrow.

"Are you procrastinating?"

"We're almost out of gloves- did we have another box in the back, or-"

"Lila." Lila stopped and turned back to Helga, who hadn't moved. Helga just raised her eyebrows at her. Lila sighed, opened her mouth, and then shut it, gaze firm on the floor. It was Helga's turn to sigh then.

"Lila, I've known you for a really, _really_ long time now." Helga used her shoulder to push herself off the pole, walking over to the sink to wash the small set of dishes Lila had piled there earlier. "I know you." The way she said it, Helga thought, was to let Lila know that she could know of someone forever, and not know them at all. But Helga knew Lila. "Whatever it is, it can't be as bad as you're making it out to be," She rinsed one of the bins out. "So please, just talk to me before you make me so nervous my heart beats out."

"Okay," Lila took a breath. "Then, seriously, I'm gonna need your help."

Helga leaned her hip on the sink, crossing her arms with an easy smile, turning to Lila. "Okay, shoot."

* * *

There was a difference between wandering and exploring. Rhonda was exploring, not wandering. She hadn't really walked around town in a few months. Things could change.

She hadn't spotted any differences yet, but that didn't mean that they weren't there.

Perhaps she just wasn't looking hard enough, yet.

She was walking around a corner, when some idiot on his cellphone smacked into her, ruining her peaceful afternoon.

"Hey," She remarked cooly, rubbing at her cheek where his nose had hit her. "Is it too much to ask that people stop texting long enough to see where they're _walki_ -"

Oh, him. She blinked at him. She had already seen him once today.

"Hello, Sid." She smiled at him, taking in his face for a good look this time.

When you grow up with someone, it's nearly impossible to notice them changing as they get older, as they don't just suddenly burst into the room and look like a man. It happens subtly, the jawline fills out, the hair thickens, the shoulders get broader. It's only when you haven't really taken a good look at someone in a while when you realize that, holy shit, you're not 9 years old anymore.

"Rhonda," He said cordially, ready to push past her. And he did.

"Excuse me," She turned as he was moving past. "Isn't there something you'd like to say?" He turned around, eyebrows furrowed.

"Nice…hair?" he tilted his head to the side, looking every bit a puppy dog. A mangy one, that needed a haircut, in Rhonda's opinion, but a puppy.

"…No!?" She exclaimed, annoyed. Was his attention span so small that he forgot he _just_ smacked into her?

His head tilted even further to the side, and she found herself trying to remember if he was _always_ this dense.

* * *

"Hey Helga," Rhonda hadn't known when it happened, when Sid and Helga suddenly became best pals. She pondered, for a moment, if it was worth letting the friend that she was texting know about it. The best gossip is always found before it happens. You just have to keep an eye on _everything_. It was early November of 2009, and Helga and Sid were, for some reason, now best friends. Who knew, by March of 2010, they could be _dating_.

"Hey." Rhonda knew at the sound of Helga's forlorn voice that if there was a day to listen into these dorks, today was probably a good day. Rhonda shifted forward in her seat, letting her dark hair that was finally growing out, fall over her face. She didn't need them knowing she was paying attention.

"How was your weekend?" Sid was sitting down, putting his backpack under his seat. Helga was obviously fidgeting, if the creaks of her seat were any indication.

"It was," She paused. Rhonda hadn't heard the girl sound so small…ever, frankly. "Could we talk about something else?"

"Sure," Sid said politely. Rhonda realized in the moments after that polite wasn't the right word to use, more like sympathetic.

"What did you do this weekend?" Helga sounded…interested, in someone other than herself? And that had Rhonda, she just had to know what was up with the girl.

"Alright, you got me" Rhonda flipped her hair back, turning to glare at Helga over Sid. "What's got you?"

Helga hardened, running her hand back through her hair, which was down today. "What are you talking about, Lloyd?" She let her hair fall back down into place, slightly waving in front of her face. Rhonda tried not to feel jealous at the natural-looking body of it.

At least Helga still had the ugly unibrow.

"Why," Rhonda shifted in her chair to face Helga, "are you suddenly the Drum Major for the Pity Parade, population: one?" She wiggled forward.

"I don't think that's any of your business, Rhonda." Sid spit before Helga even opened her mouth. "I _know_ it isn't mine."

"Maybe you should let your _girlfriend_ speak for herself, Sid." Rhonda snarled, eyes set on the boy's stupid hat. What was with Helga and boys with stupid hats?

She thought they weren't even allowed to wear hats to school, anyway?

"Well, _maybe_ ," Sid responded angrily, pushing forward, "if some people weren't such nosy-"

"Stop, Sid," Helga countered gently. Sid did, settling back to look at Helga. Helga only had eyes for Rhonda. "Why do you even care?" She asked Rhonda.

Rhonda had never thought that someone being calm would be a lot more frightening than them being angry, but there were firsts for everything.

She also didn't know how to respond, because she didn't know _why_ she cared, she just knew that she _did_.

"I mean, seriously," Helga remained calm, leaning forward further. "Why are you always shoving yourself into matters that, really and truly, don't concern you?"

"Well, I-"

Did Rhonda see pity on Helga's face? "Don't you have friends of your own? Or problems to worry about that are, I don't know, yours? It almost seems like you're…compensating for something?"

Rhonda felt her mouth drop open against her own will.

"But, hey," Helga shrugged noncommittally, shifting back to face forwards in her seat. "I guess that's _none of my business_."

Rhonda would have preferred if Helga just punched her in the face. She felt the cool air settle between the three of them, and gosh darn it, she felt tears pooling up in the corners of her eyes. She turned to face the front aggressively, pulling the edges of her abercrombie & fitch sweatshirt over her hands, shoving her face into her palm, away from her two classmates.

She tried to control her breathing, tried to keep tears back in her eyes, when a note slid on to her desk, just under her face.

 _im not helgas bf, arnold is._

She wanted so _badly_ to roll it up and shove it down his throat.

* * *

Rhonda had no idea what depth of her mind the memory had sprung from, as she stared at Sid on that side street in Hillwood, but she could answer her own question, memories of her sitting there, almost in tears, the dumb note in front of her.

Yeah, he always was that daft.

* * *

"Have you ever," Lila said as she was finishing cutting her fruit up, fumbling into where she wanted the conversation to end up, "told a lie so long that you eventually forget you're lying?'

"Uh," Helga mumbled. "Maybe when I was younger…" She had stomped around for no particular reason for the first half of her adolescence to avoid getting made fun of, if that was considered lying.

"I suppose I feel," Lila was pushing all the strawberries into one corner of the board "as if I'm so deep into something that there doesn't feel like there's a way out of it, you know?"  
That Helga could understand. Her cell-phone, a dinosaur from before the IPhone era, pinged in her pocket. It wasn't even an android, it wouldn't connect to the internet unless she was in the vicinity of wifi.

It was Cass.

cass 2:53 P.M.

call me hoe

i have things to tell you

have you talked to sid today

?

Cass had a tendency to send multiple texts on the same subject instead of one long one. Helga supposed that was more common for people who had iPhones.

"I mean," Helga squinted at her phone, wondering how to respond, "on your question, I think I know what you're talking about. But there always is, probably, a way to fix it, unless you killed someone, or something." Helga muttered, typing out a response to Cassidy.

helga 2:54 P.M.

i cant. some of us have to do things like go to work.

ill call later, though. i haven't seen or heard from him since last night

cass 2:54 P.M.

u prob will soon

he wants to tell u my hting :/

*thing

he says itll b better if he does it

apparently i dont have enough flair for the dramatic

helga 2:56 P.M.

lol okay.

I'm sure whatever it is would have been just as good coming from you

cass 2:56 P.M.

Call me after u see him

"You're grinning like crazy, Helga," Lila noticed, pulling Helga's gaze up from her phone. "Who are you texting?'

"My friend Cass, you know Cassidy right?" Helga explained easily, nicking a peanut mnm that was loose on the counter.

"I know Cass," Lila said with a knowing smirk, reattaching the lid of the tub she was holding.

"What is that look for?" Helga sassed, shoving her phone back in her pocket without sending a response.

"Nothing," Lila frowned, mock innocently. She was still staring at Helga like she knew something Helga didn't, which just made her uncomfortable. That was a habit of Olga's too, one she wasn't a fan of.

"Are we getting back to this secret soon, or?" Helga diverted.

* * *

"An apology," Rhonda crossed her arms in front of him. "That's all I was looking for, Sid."

"Oh," He felt the guiltiest you could ever feel in the presence of Rhonda Wellington-Lloyd, which was not very. "I'm sorry, Rhonda."

"It's okay, Sid." She was looking at him like he had her permission to turn and walk away. He was going to, but he hesitated. He thought about what she was doing there, considering she did mention at least twenty times a day that she was going to Columbia during their senior year. It was an accomplishment, he just wasn't sure how much of it was due to her own work.

Rhonda was just one of those girls that you could look at and tell they had money. Sid wasn't even sure if it was the clothes, he wondered if you took the pixie pants she was wearing and slapped them on Helga, if Helga would look rich.

He doubted it.

It was something about the way her hips slightly cocked to the side, the way she used her face to convey mild distaste at every interaction. The way her sunglasses perched on her head just _so_ , as if to say these were very expensive and I don't even really need to use them, hah.

He noticed that her hair was short again, it was long at graduation, falling past her chest.

He looked at it, the way it curled on her collar bone, realizing he didn't have to look down very far. She was a tall girl, probably his height, maybe a little taller. She was thin in a way that was different from Helga's thin, she was thin in the way where you could tell that it wasn't her genetics, that she worked for it.

"You cut your hair." He noted to her.

She squinted at him the way people did when he said something weird.

"Yeah." She drawled slowly. "It didn't just fall off."

He didn't know what he was _supposed_ to say next, but whatever it was, he didn't say it. "What are you doing here? Isn't your school like…3 hours away from here?"

Her eyes narrowed at him. "Two, thank you. And I'm visiting my parents."

"Oh," he swallowed. "Well, I'm off to meet Helga," he told her, backing away slowly. She already seemed disinterested, eyes on her large phone in her hand. It was pink. He thought the expensive iPhones were pink. "I wanted to catch her before Arnold comes in to-"

"Wait a minute, before _who_ comes in?"

Ah, fuck, Sid thought, reeling backwards. She must not have gotten a request on facebook from him, or something.

"Uh, Arnold. Do you remember him, we went to elementary school together? He was kind of a weird guy, weird hat, plaid shir-"

She was staring at him with a blank expression. " _Honestly_ , Sid. Are you- are you being genuine right now? _Of course_ I remember Arnold. Who wouldn't? And after the drama he indirectly caused-" She smiled then. Sid realized it was the first smile she had throughout their entire interaction. "I'm not sure if Hillwood Middle School had ever seen anything quite like it."

"Well… you know, our friends, well, like, our friends _at the time_ ," He shrugged. "They never really bothered to stick with the status quo." They stared at each other. The wind blew at them, and Sid realized that it had gotten pretty cold. She snuggled a bit further into his hoodie. "So, I'm gonna go… see you around, Rhonda."

He didn't stick around to hear her response.

* * *

"Okay, so Middle School," Lila was saying as she swept the store.

"I went to it." Helga replied, flipping through the tv channels on the store television.

"Yes, well, when we were in Middle School-" Lila stumbled. "Do you remember, well, do you know how-"

"Everything sucked?"

"Yes!" Lila paused her sweeping. "Well, no, kind of? I mean-"

"Helga!" The voice rang out in the store at the same time the door bell rang.

"Hey Squid," she pretended to be less pleased than she was that he was visiting her. The attentiveness of her friends still made her happy, no matter how hard she tried to stop it.

"Why do you insist on calling me that?"

"Why does the Earth spin?"

"Because Helga Pataki is on it?"

"Bingo." She grinned, finally bothering to actually look over at her friend. Her friend who looked mildly distraught. "Whoa, whaddup with you?"

"Sid!" Lila exclaimed, "Thank _God_ you're here," Lila had him by the arm before Helga could blink. "I have something I really need to talk to you about."

Helga could probably count on one hand the amount of times she had seen Lila and Sid interact. Sid looked a little flushed when he looked down at Lila, and Helga could only roll her eyes. Sure, Lila was hot, but was she _that_ hot?

Lila looked up at him, all big eyes and somewhat pouted mouth, and Helga withdrew her last argument. She kind of was.

"We'll be right back!"

And before Helga could say anything else, Lila was uncharacteristically dragging Sid out of the shop.

* * *

"I NEED your advice!" Lila pulled them into the little alley next to the shop where the dumpsters were. "Like, ASAP!"

"Whoa, calm down," Sid watched her pace. "I just came to talk to Helga about something. What's wrong?"

"I'm a LIAR, Sid, THAT'S WHAT'S WRONG!"

Sid would be more afraid, but he lasted through puberty with Helga Pataki. He could handle a yelling ginger.

"What'd you lie about?"

She made a whiny noise, tucking her face under her arm, finally stopping pacing. She danced a little, nervous toes wiggling. "Okay, you remember Middle School, right?"

"…of course."

"Do you happen to remember Arnold? He was Helga's first boyfr-"

"In what world _wouldn't_ I remember Arnold?" Sid interrupted. "We all know who Arnold is, continue."

"Okay, well. I still don't really know what happened, persay, but he wrote to me while he was gone, and so I replied, like anyone else would."

Sid grimaced a little, because not for nothing, but not _anyone else_ would. Because he could think of one person, in a 300 yard radius, who _didn't_.

"And I ended up, kind of, playing reporter for him? I sent him pictures, and stuff. Eventually he told me no one else was writing him, like in fall of 8th grade. And I felt _ever_ - _so_ bad."

"I don't see what's wrong with any of this, Lila." Sid interrupted. "You wrote him letters because no one else did, not even…" He trailed off, looking towards the shop. "So what did you do that's bad."

"Because…" She danced a little again. It was adorable. "I lied to him, okay?"

"About…what?"

"Everything?" She said in a small voice, wincing.

"Everything?"

She groaned again. "I didn't want to ruin his fantasies, and frankly I thought he was never coming back…so I lied. I told him that everything was okay here, and that our friends were as strong as ever, that Helga wasn't missing him too badly but hadn't forgotten him either-"

"…how far did you take this?" He asked her, leaning against the wall, arms crossed. Sure, some of it wasn't true. But he and Helga were still friends, Gerald and Jake were friends. Pheobe drifted from all of them in High School, after the blow up fight that Gerald, Pheobe and Helga had in 8th grade. The three of them knew to stay the hell out of each other's ways, and they did, and everyone else knew it too.

"…I told him that Gerald and Pheobe went to Prom together last spring."

Sid's jaw dropped. "You did _not_." She smacked her hands on her face, but he could see her skin turning red under it.

"I told him, in detail, about me and Pheobe and Helga getting ready together."

He started to laugh. "Why would you do that?"

"I don't know-" She sounded exasperated, not at Sid, but at herself. "It was so easy. And I THOUGHT he was never coming BACK." She yelled, hands flying up. "And then, his grandma dies, so of course he's coming back, but I thought that the funeral was gonna happen for a week tops. So I thought, hey, maybe it'll be easier to just get Helga to play along for a week than tell Arnold that our entire correspondence for the last six years was built on _lies_! But, no, I just got this text: he's not staying for a week, he's staying for God KNOWS how long, because he has to help his Grandpa. And so, here I am, trapped in a web of my own lies like an IDIOT, and of course, I lied to Helga too. I never _told_ her that I was always checking in because I was writing Arnold. When she asked me if I had heard from him, I told her it had been years. _Years_ , Sid! So now I'm stuck in two completely different lives, and I didn't even eat lunch today, I just stood out here and paced like an IDIOT."

"Quit calling yourself an idiot."

"I should have never gone to H-U." She rubbed a hand across her eyebrows. "If I hadn't, I wouldn't even be here right now and my lies wouldn't even matter."

"You regret…getting caught?" Sid had to laugh. "Not actually lying?'

"Of course I don't regret _lying_ , Sid. It made him happy. He used to worry, especially about her, ever-so much. If I regretted it, I wouldn't have done it."

"I got to tell you, Lila-" He shook his head, "you're a strange chick."

She blinked at him. "No, what you've _got to_ do, Sid, is help me think of a _plan_." Her head tilted up suddenly, like a dog's does. Sid watched her as she squinted at the sky. "I think the doorbell rang in the shop," she said quietly. She stood there squinting, probably considering whether or not she wanted to go back inside. She, without a word, casually walked around the corner to peer inside the giant windows. Sid followed closely behind her, curiously poking his head out to look inside as well.

A tall blonde boy in a baseball cap was standing in the center of the shop.

A tall blonde girl was standing behind the register gaping at him.

"Jesus Christ," Sid muttered.

"Kill me," Lila breathed. "Just kill me now."

* * *

 _a/n: im not great at interaction w/ others, but if u read and / or reviewed, thank u from the bottom of my heart._


	4. Chapter 4

Her first thought when she saw his face was "everything about this is wrong."

Not "oh my god," or "it's you," or, the ever-dramatic "I still love you."

Everything about it _was_ wrong.

It was probably the poet that lived in a cramped her speaking, but she had never truly ruled Arnold out of the equation entirely. She had imagined them re-meeting many times. It was a thought more often had in Middle School than recently, but a thought she still had.

She imagined him, a short but hardy researcher, returned to his New York City apartment, at a bar, drinking away the woes of having a useless assistant his good-natured heart couldn't bring itself to fire. She imagined her, an author who never really thought she'd be anything, suddenly a something, ditching the snooty launch party of soon-to-be best seller, to some dive bar to get manhattans with her best friend, where else, in Manhattan.

The logistics changed every time, but the heart of the story was ever-green.

Him, a single dad with a dead wife and an amazing son, returned to their childhood town. Her, with her childhood home to her name and not much else, returned to find herself. Him, a jaded man, enlisting in the army, college seeming futile. Her, the girl he looks for before he goes. Him, a humble volunteer firefighter. Her, a librarian with time for nothing but him and Cummings. Him, a school teacher. Her, a mother.

Her hair should have been up. It maybe shouldn't have been in childhood pigtails, but it should have been up. She shouldn't ironically be wearing her hat for the store backwards, so she could make of Sid when he came back with Lila. It should have had a bow in it, maybe not the way it used to, but a bow somewhere.

She should have been wearing something pink.

She should have had on shoes with no holes, she owned some.

Her hair should be shorter. She shouldn't have been leaned over, hugging the register like it was a child, just exhausted. She shouldn't have so many hair ties on her wrist. Her mascara shouldn't have clumped up that morning. She shouldn't have been wearing leggings.

She had imagined this many times.

Never once had it featured leggings.

He should have been wearing plaid. He should have been wearing a baseball cap, maybe one that wasn't comically small, but a cap. He should have been wearing anything other than the grey henley he was wearing.

He wasn't supposed to be that tall. He wasn't supposed to be tan. He wasn't supposed to have lost his large, innocent eyes, traded them in for ones that looked like he had premature smile lines already carved into his skin. He wasn't supposed to be wearing a worn, brown leather watch with a silver face, or have his sleeves rolled up slightly too far. He shouldn't have had his hands in his pockets, his posture shouldn't have been so confident.

She couldn't remember what she had really wanted his face to look like, but it wasn't the grin he had while staring at her now.

They were supposed to lock eyes again for the first time _at the same time_. They were supposed to re-meet suddenly all too aware of how equal they were. How alike they were. How different they were. It didn't matter the setting: a bar, a schoolyard, a street in Hillwood. It was always the same, regardless: they were supposed to see each other at the same time.

It wasn't _meant_ to happen the way it did.

* * *

cass 3:09 

you're telling me lila just dragged sid

our sid

outside

with no explanation or warning

helga 3:09

bingo

cass 3:09

it sounds like something out of 9th grade sid's wet dreams

Helga snorted as the door bell rang, and she leaned over the register a little bit more, to hide her cellphone from the customer better. She hunched in a little farther, trying to type out a response while the timing was right while still greeting her guest.

"Hey there!" Helga said cheerily, eyes glued on her phone, attempting to type a sentence with one hand, other wrapped around the register for support. She could hear that the guest hadn't moved, that they were standing in one spot. That was usually an indication that they had no idea how the shop worked. She could practically feel their gaze on her cheek. She finished her text anyway.

helga 3:10

or 9th grade helga's.

"Welcome to YoTastic, it's an entirely self serve system, the machines are down there, but let me know if I can help yo-" She slid her phone shut, looking up at the guest who had just walked into the store.

She shouldn't have dropped her cell phone.

He shouldn't have laughed about it.

Helga realized in that moment that in this life there are things you'll never get a second chance at doing.

But somewhere, somewhere small, in the very back of her mind: she knew that in this life, there were things you _did_ get second chances at.

The place in her mind where that thought lived was probably next door neighbors with the little spot where she remembered how Arnold used to look at her like she was the answer to a question he hadn't even asked yet.

And there he was, laughing at her before they even spoke.

Everything about it was wrong.

* * *

"Do we go in," Sid asked as they stared through the window.

"No."

"Should we leave?"

"No."

"Should I text her."

"No."

"Do we just stand here and stare at them until one of them notices us."

" _No!_ "

"Well, for fuck's sakes, Lila, what are we supposed to do? Turn into lizards and run off to live in Mexico featuring very George Lopez-esque comedic stylings?"  
"…what?"

"Well, Sid, on that note," a new voice added to their conversation, "as much as I am touched, really I am," Sid was ready to bash his head into the pavement "by this little Middle School reunion," Rhonda was definitely wearing more perfume than she was the last time he had seen her, like, fifteen minutes ago, "I am far more interested by the one in _there_."

And with that, Rhonda Wellington-Lloyd had appeared from nowhere, pushed in between them, and ceremoniously swung the shop door open to all but twirl inside.

"Why turn into lizards when we already know a snake." Lila muttered.

Sid was still trying to grasp the fact that the last twenty minutes had happened, and more-so, happened to him.

The 12 year old in him was screaming.

The 18 year old in him really kind of just wanted to take a nap.

* * *

Helga would like to add at that point, that never _once_ had these visions of her and Arnold reconnecting featured Rhonda Wellington-Lloyd.

"Arnold!" Helga knew her voice wasn't that high pitched. She also wasn't that much of an expressive person, but Helga watched Rhonda fling open her arms anyway, making a squealing noise. "It's me, Rhonda!"

"I know," Arnold said with a grin, walking a few steps to hug her.

They had never featured Rhonda and Arnold hugging before Arnold even spoke to Helga, either.

"When did you get in," Rhonda said in the hug, squeezing him agressively, "this is so crazy!"

Helga had just noticed that Sid and Lila were wallflowers by the door, standing just barely inside the shop.

Sid was grimacing.

Helga only then realized that this was what everyone was trying to tell her all day.

Lila was staring at her apologetically.

"Some warning," Helga remembered her saying this morning. "It's always nice."

Warning _indeed_.

"Uh, about six hours ago." He let go of her then, reaching to scratch at his neck. "Long flight."

"I'm sure! And the first thing you do is come to find your _ex_?"

Helga wished she could be surprised that Rhonda would do that. Just go for it, that way. But she wasn't. She wasn't in the slightest.

She didn't know what to say, so she didn't say anything at all.

"I, um, I told him I was working this afternoon, Rhonda." Lila clarified, speaking clearly behind her.

Arnold's eyes lit up, "Lila, oh my god!" He almost ran to hug her, embracing her with much more enthusiasm than he had Rhonda.

"Hi, Arnold," She said warmly, tucking her face in between his head and his neck.

Helga tried so very hard not to burn with envy, she could feel Sid's, but more prominitely, Rhonda's eyes, glued to her with the tenacity of eagle's eyes on it's prey. She forced a smile forward.

"Oh my god," His arms tightened around her. "I know you've sent me pictures and everything, but it's so weird seeing you all…"

"Grown up?" Lila pulled back from him, hands grabbing his upper arms. "I could say the same for you."

"Yeah," he laughed. "It happened when I was like 16, I shot up like a rocket." He was examining her face intensely. "It is so good to see you."

Helga wanted to cry. She wanted to cry _so_ badly. If Rhonda wasn't there, she might have.

It was likely the only time she ever felt grateful for Rhonda's presence.

Helga didn't know what else to do, so she just looked at Sid, who's eyes were searching out her face, looking somewhat sick with worry. She felt a rush of appreciation for Sid in those moments.

She had a joke to make on the tip of her tongue maybe 'do you two want us to leave,' or 'i didn't know fourth grade classes had reunions,' but nothing felt right to her. Nothing that was coming to her mind that needed to be said. She stayed silent, standing there, hands twitching.

"Sid?!" Arnold turned to the side, sounding incredulous. Sid's eyes jumped from Helga to Arnold, smiling at him.

"Hey, man, how are you?" Sid asked, but Arnold was already hugging him.

"You look good, man!" Arnold told him, thumping him on his back. Helga saw the small amount of pride flush into Sid's cheeks. He didn't say anything back, just hugged Arnold.

"Wow," Arnold pulled back from him, and turned to gaze to lay a hand on Lila on the side. He looked between Lila, Sid, and Rhonda, who had walked up to join them. "I can't believe this. I mean, I knew we'd all get older, but it's so _odd_."

Helga watched the back of his head, his hair brushed just past his ears.

If you had told her that all of this would happen, she would expect to be jealous of Lila. She wouldn't be surprised that she was jealous of Rhonda.

She wouldn't have guessed she'd be jealous of Sid.

Helga just wanted to see the look on his face, the wonder that was probably under it. The excitement for the unknown, the astonishment at the changes of time.

The love that was undoubtedly in it.

She just wished it had been directed towards her.

She wanted it so badly it alarmed her.

And maybe that's what made her move. She didn't know.

She had opened the small door by the side of the register, that let the employees out to the lobby. She opened it, walked around it, and shut it quietly, without saying a word.

He heard her anyway, and turned around slowly. He examined her face again, and then his grin was nearly splitting his face in two.

"Helga," he breathed, grin leaking into his voice.

Before Helga could even register the sound of him saying her name, he was walking quickly across the room, opening his arms, and drawing her into them.

Her arms sprung around his neck in surprise, wrapping tightly around him. Before her mind caught up with her, her feet were off the floor, he had spun them around, and he was still walking.

"I've missed you," he breathed into her neck.

Her feet dangled uselessly above the floor.

"How's it been, football head?" She muttered quietly, willing her face to not turn red.

She knew that he laughed at that.

She just wasn't sure if it was her imagination, but she _thought_ that his arms tightened around her.

Her hat had fallen off at some point, she didn't know when.

* * *

He'd have known the face anywhere. It's possible it could have been because he was in his hometown, but he still thought that if he had seen her anywhere- a mountain in Tibet, an alley in Paris, he'd have known it was her.

He tried not to feel creepy, watching her through the window of the shop.

She was beautiful, laughing at whomever she was communicating with through her phone. Arnold still had a lot to wrap his mind around with that, cell phones, that is. He himself had an iPhone in his pockets that his parents had bought for him, but it baffled him more than it helped him do anything.

He did like the Maps app though, that had helped him get where he was standing.

He was a little embarrassed, that he had to use a digital assistant to navigate a town he used to have etched on his heart like a tattoo. But it had been years, and frozen yogurt wasn't even a thing when he left.

Lila tried to explain it in letters, but he still wasn't sure he understood. He was pretty sure it was just ice cream for people who liked to lie to themselves.

His mouth had gone dry when he saw her, he almost thought that it was a trap, that Lila had tricked him. He didn't know why she would do that in any way though, he told her more than once how excited he was to see Helga.

He had thought about it since the day he had left.

* * *

Arnold waited by her locker, nervous to see his own girlfriend, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. He took his hat off and then put it back on and fidgeted some more.

"Hey," She was standing behind him, and he jumped around to face her, startled.

"Hi!" He said too loudly. She smiled sadly at him, one hand on her backpack. It was old, and had been sewn up the bottom. Olga had used it once, long ago. Helga was officially too old to forgo a backpack, so she dug through some boxes before coming upon one. Arnold remembered helping Helga sew it back together when it had fell apart one after a long day. He remembered finishing it for her, because she kept stopping every few moments to furiously wipe at her eyes. He remembers not knowing what to say, so he said nothing, and just finished the stitching.

He saw the same look, the I'm-Holding-It-Together look, in her eye that day. It hurt him more than he even knew it did at the time.

He was also, again, at a loss for what to say.

She seemed to know that, though, because she said "walk me home?"

He nodded vigorously.

It was a really cold day, that day in January. Helga's nose and cheeks were turning pink as they walked, not saying much of anything at all. Pink always suited her, Arnold thought, as he looked at her ponytail with the bow. It definitely did.

"Are you excited?" Helga asked quietly, hands shoved into her pockets.

Arnold was having a hard time not being excited. He was sure she expected it, as it was his parents and he missed them desperately. But that wasn't something he wanted to just shout into the heavens, not in front of her. So, he didn't answer. Not really.

He just reached a hand into her coat pocket, and laced his fingers through her, pulling it back out. He rubbed his thumb on hers.

She seemed to shrink a little more.

Arnold didn't know why everything had to die every year. He looked at the trees that were nothing but shadows of themselves, whispers of snow still left in the nooks. The cracks of the sidewalk had no signs of little green stems in them. The water that normally ran to the drains was stuck, frozen into a little puddle.

The wind hit his cheek hard.

They were only two blocks away from her house.

"Promise me you'll write," He asked quietly, gripping her hand a little harder.

"I will." She promised.

He took a breath.

He wanted to make her promise other things. Promise to eat, to make some new friends, to not let her family under her skin. He knew that if he asked, she would say she would. He just didn't know if she would keep them.

A promise never made was better than a promise never kept.

"I'm going to miss you," he told her honestly. "I'm going to miss you every single day."

He could hear her breathing. He thought it might be because of the wind.

Her other hand rubbed at her eye.

He stopped talking.

Her house was in the middle of the block. He wished he walked slower. He wished he had said more. He wished he knew what to say more.

But no amount of wishing would change that they were standing outside of the Pataki home, and he had a half an hour to get home before he had to leave for his flight, and he had promised to say goodbye to Gerald in person.

She turned to him, mouth beginning to open like something was on the tip of her tongue, but he never learned what it was, because he kissed her.

It wasn't as if it were their first kiss, or their weirdest. It was just set out from the others, because she had barely kissed him back.

When he pulled back from her, that look in her eye was returned. He hugged her, hard, so he wouldn't have to look at it.

What she said to him, the last words she would in a long time, was odd, and the sound of it rang in Arnold's ears for years to come after that.

"Thank you, Arnold." She said quietly as he hugged her, hugging him fiercely.

He pulled back, and kissed the corner of her eye, insides pulling at him when he felt wetness under his lips.

"Take care of yourself, Helga, please." He told her. She rubbed at her eyes as he gripped her arms, watching her. She nodded.

He kissed her again.

He wouldn't be able to remember, no matter how hard he focused on it, how the next few moments played out. He couldn't remember who let go first, who turned away, who watched who go. He just knew it ended with her, in her house, and him, walking away on a lonely Hillwood street.

He left his blue cap on her front step. He didn't need it anymore. His dad gave him a new one.

He didn't know if she ever picked it up.

* * *

Everything about it was perfect, he thought, as he hugged her in the middle of that shop. The only thing he could consider missing was Gerald, and he was sure he'd be able to catch up with him soon enough. He reveled in how small Helga seemed to him now, how she still seemed fond of him. How beautiful Helga had come to be, how Lila was still so kind, and brought them to be together. How he could feel her hair on his arm, how tightly she held him.

He told her he missed her, she called him an insult-turned pet name.

It was a perfect moment in time.

"Of course," He heard Rhonda say, "the _ex_ gets the best treatment."

Rhonda had barely changed.

It was perfect.

He set her down, albeit sheepishly at his dramatic. "You know it's funny," he said, as he smoothed out the arms of her shirt, her looking around a little flustered. He turned to face Rhonda because he wasn't sure he could stand how cute it was. "I don't recall getting dumped by you," He leaned on the counter, gesturing towards Helga. He wondered if what he was saying was too brave, but the way she was patting her head, looking around for the hat he had accidentally knocked off, it made him do it anyway. "I _know_ I _definitely_ didn't dump you." He shrugged, leaning a hip into the counter, crossing his arms. "I don't know about you guys, but by all laws of mankind, I believe that means we're still dating."

Helga spluttered, Lila's eyes widened to an extreme, Sid looked panicked, Rhonda laughed.

Rhonda spoke through her spattered laughter, which Lila had begun to join in on, "you are something, Arnold," she snorted, her eyes glittered. "This fall is looking better by the moment."

* * *

 _a/n lila isn't going away, sorry. thank u if u read & double thanks if u leave reviews, u r lovely and encouraging. xx_


	5. Chapter 5

Sid was gawking at him with disbelief. Helga's face was red. The kid couldn't be that…dense, could he be? He never was the quickest on the pick up, but he was nearly an adult. Hell, by the look of his stature and his arms, you'd think he was one.

His face was stone cold, as he raised his eyebrows at Helga, who was stumbling over her words.

"I, well, you know-"

His face suddenly split into a grin, and then a laugh, and Sid felt relief flood through his body.

Then he was laughing too.

"It's not _funny_ , Sid." Helga yelled at him.

"Oh _come on_ , Tic Tac, it kind of is."

"Tic Tac?" Arnold's eyebrows were in his hair again. "What is that?"

"Oh my god," Helga groaned, shoving her face into her hands.

"It's a nickname, she picked it up in like, 9th grade."

"That's," Arnold chuckled, "That's adorable." He walked over to a set of table and chairs, whipping one around so he could sit in it backwards, leaning his head on his arms on the back of it.

"So, how 'bout it, Tic Tac, are you dumping me?" He had an obnoxious grin on his face that was also somehow charming. Sid hoped that when he pulled stuff like that it had the same effect.

"Am I _what_?" Helga ripped her hands away from her face. "Arnold," She saw her hat on the ground and leaned down to pick it up. "We're not dating."

"So, you're dumping me."

"No, because I can't dump what isn't there-"

"So we're together?" Arnold was obviously just messing with her, but it was obviously working.

"Agh!" She threw her hands up in aggravation.

"So," Rhonda interrupted, as she was so fond of doing, "no one got dumped here in the first place?"

Arnold shook his head as Rhonda took the seat, facing normally, next to him. "No, you know that sounds like something someone would probably take to a letter to do or so, but, uh, I never got one." He was laughing, looking at Helga.

Her face had fallen a little. Sid could tell by Lila's posture that she was feeling as uncomfortable as he was.

"It isn't funny Arnold." Helga chastised quietly.

"Oh, it wasn't then," Arnold's face had turned for the serious, staring at her. "But now?" He huffed up little breaths, like laughs that were captured in his chest. "It kind of is."

Helga was scanning the ground, her thinking face flat on her expression. Her chest moved slightly forward and back, laughs trapped inside. "Okay," Her face split into a grin, "I guess it's kind of funny."

When she full out laughed, Arnold joined her. "I mean, jeez Helga, not one? My 13 year old heart was crushed."

"Oh, please," she wheezed, sitting on a table, ignoring a disapproving frown from Lila. "Do you know how much poetry a 13 year old can storm up over her boyfriend moving across the world from her?"

"No," He shook his head with a laugh.

"I have a WHOLE SHELF WORTH," She took off her hat and flung it at him. "YOU ABSOLUTE PRICK." She then laughed in the way that Sid knew, it was usually reserved for two am, or after a good amount of weed. It was that full-hearted laugh. Sid loved that one.

Sid looked at Lila, to see if she was confused as he was. Helga and Arnold were like dumping cool water into a hot pan. It was one thing and then it was another and there was smoke and you were confused. They were laughing and then they were mad and now they were laughing about the fact they were mad in the first place?

Lila just smiled at him like she knew the language that was spoken here and he didn't, which might have been fair.

"So, Rhonda," Arnold calmed his laugh down. "Lila told me you're going to Columbia?"

* * *

Gerald was happy, he thought, as he watched his girlfriend slide his shirt over her curvy physique, his numbers displayed on her back. She was sitting on the edge of his dorm bed, warm hazy light seeping through his navy drapes. Her caramel skin looked a little darker than it normally did in the lowlight.

She stretched forward, and he could see the lines of her back through his jersey.

Yea- he was happy.

He leaned back on his bed, folding his hands over his stomach with a sigh.

"Are you thinking about him again?" she asked quietly, using her hands to part her hair into two parts.

"No-" Gerald told her honestly. Now he was, but he wasn't in the moments before.

"When was the last time you saw him, again?"

"Seventh grade." He pressed his lips together, watching his ceiling fan spin in circles.

She shifted up so she could tuck a foot under her. She wanted to look into the mirror on his dresser, and she was too short. She eyed herself, grabbing one side of her head to begin a french braid.

He knew what she wanted to ask him, _why the fuck do you even care_ , he could tell she was just trying to find a way to ask nicely.

"I'm sorry," She breathed quietly, fingers nimbly working through curly hair.

Mariella never seemed to stop surprising Gerald.

"Why don't you just message him, and say hey?" She had gotten down to the end of her hair, using a ponytail to tie the end effectively. "I mean, I know you're embarrassed that you never reached out to him, but if he was gonna be mad about it, he probably stopped being mad a long, long time ago." She was tugging some loose ends out of her braid, before picking up the other side.

"I don't know." Gerald told her. He wished he had a baseball or something to fiddle with in his hands. He checked his phone instead. "It's just-" He decided to answer a question she hadn't asked, because he himself needed to hear the answer worked out out loud. Why did he care so much? "I don't know, Mari. Like, as a kid, you know how some kids want to be astronauts… or firefighters? Or that being an adults gonna be cool because you get to make your own choices? I don't know, it was just that, all my childhood dreams, or whatever you want to call them, they all had him in them. When he left, everything…got boring. It used to be an adventure every day, and then it wasn't. I guess I… miss that."

She tied the other part of her hair back with a sigh. She turned around, so the light from the window was now hitting her from behind, giving her a halo, angelic effect. "And I was a princess, waiting in a tower. Or, I was a little girl with a crown from burger king on top of the playground." She said kindly. She laid down next to him, head tucked up on his chest.

"Being nostalgic for childhood isn't weird, Ger." She told him quietly, drawing a small pattern with her fingertips on his stomach. "But it might be a _little_ weird to put all these expectations on some kid you haven't seen since you were 13."

He kissed the top of her head, thick with the two braids she had put in her hair.

"But I think it would be way weirder if he were in town and you just ignored him, for fear of him being _mad_. That's just stupid, baby."

He looked down at her, beautiful without her makeup, eyelashes fluttering against his chest. He kissed her.

"How did I ever get along without you?" He asked her, before kissing beside her thick eyelashes.

"You didn't."

* * *

"Well," Rhonda announced after telling Arnold the struggle of getting into such a prestigious university. "I've really got to run," Rhonda didn't exactly know where she was planning on going, but she surely had _somewhere_ to be. Or at least, she needed them to think that.

"Sure," Arnold nodded good naturedly, "it was good to see you Rhonda. I, myself, actually had someone else I wanted to try and find today." He stared up, Helga and Lila had returned behind the counter when customers had come in, Sid was leaning up against it, likely to tell Helga crude things in passing moments. She was grinning as she rang someone up. "I don't think I expected to knock out this many at one time."

"You're looking for Gerald?" She guessed, leaning forward. "He shouldn't be too hard to find. He kind of sticks out in a crowd."

"Who does?" Sid asked from across the room, as the guests exited the front door.

"Johanssen."

Helga snorted, "Believe me or not, I saw him a few hours ago."

"You're kidding," Rhonda's eyes narrowed.

It was well known in their town that Helga and Gerald did not cross paths. Neither socialized particularly with Pheobe anymore, but they didn't avoid her as they avoided each other- like the plague.

"I said believe me or not, didn't I?" Helga leered, leaning over the register.

Arnold smiled warmly, "Oh, awesome!" He clapped his hands together, licking his lips. "Did you guys have plans for later?"

Rhonda coughed, Helga recoiled, eyebrows furrowing together.

Sid looked straight to Lila, who looked…almost nuetral.

"Uh…" Helga muttered. "'Fraid to say that's probably nev-"

Sid's phone rang.

"Ah, shit," He looked at the front of it. "Guess who we forgot to call?" Sid looked to Helga.

"Cass." They said together.

"Yes, hello darling," Sid said as he unlocked his phone.

"Is Cass Sid's girlfriend?" Arnold leaned over to Rhonda.

"No," Rhonda snorted. "She's closer to being Helga's."

Arnold looked taken aback, eyebrows raised high again, "oh!" He looked over to Helga, who was yelling things at the girl on the phone over Sid. "Okay."

Rhonda suddenly remembered, that they weren't in 7th grade anymore. That he wasn't here. That he probably didn't know anything that really happened.

She laid a hand on his, and he looked at her.

"It has been six years, Arnold." She smiled sympathetically. "Things change."

He let out a breath. "Yeah."

"Here is my number," She got a pen out of her purse, grabbing his hand aggressively. "Text me, when you have a phone. We can get lunch. We can catch up." She looked at him to convey what she meant. That she would tell him all about Hillwood's Highschool years.

"Okay," he nodded, "That'd be great."

"Oh no," Sid was saying "he's great, he's more than great, I'd say," Rhonda could tell Sid was giving Arnold the up and down, "I'd say he's downright fuckin' fine."

"Sid," Helga smashed her hand on her face for a second time, "oh my god."

"What," Sid admonished the girl on the phone. "I'm comfortable enough in my sexuality to say that. Do you need me to prove my straight-ness to you?"

He paused so the girl on the line could talk.

"Okay, fine, Helga," He barked out, "Hook up with me."

"Absolutely not."

"Okay, Helga said no, but I'm working on it- shit, Cass, give me more than 20 seconds-"

"I'll see you, Arnold," Rhonda told him, patting him on his shoulder, and pushed her way out of the shop.

"Give me your phone," Lila told Arnold as she slid into the seat Rhonda had just been occupying. "You're missing a crucial app." She told him as she surveyed it. She downloaded the app for him quickly, connecting to the Starbuck's next door wifi.

"There." She handed it back. "Now you can message, like text, your Facebook friends." She slid the phone back in front of him. "Do with that information what you will," She giggled, before returning behind the counter.

"Will you stop hounding me about my sex life?" Arnold heard Sid shout.

Arnold laughed, before typing in a very particular last name.

* * *

When Gerald was sitting at dinner with his girlfriend and the notification popped up, he wanted to be surprised. He wanted to tell himself that he was gonna do it, he just had to think of the thing to say.

But of course, Arnold had done the right thing. _Arnold_ had been the one to message _him_.

Of course he had.

* * *

a/n : short & sweet today 3


	6. Chapter 6

Sid didn't necessarily think he was surprised, persay, at Arnold's enthusiasm about finding Gerald. He watched him wave goodbye to everyone, before exiting the store to answer his phone outside. Sid just merely didn't really consider it. He supposed it all had to do with the change of perspective. Gerald seemed so out of his scope of the world, despite having played on a team together all through out high school. They were cordial, and had a few conversations here and there, but if you wanted to be fair and say everyone had picked sides after the infamous split, which really, they had, everyone knew what side he had chosen.

Everyone knew what side _everyone_ had chosen, life hadn't let them forget it.

Except…

Sid looked over at her, leaned down to clean the underside of a nozzle of a machine. Her hair had fallen out of her buns slightly, due to her tugging on it anxiously.

The only person who had really and truly not sided with or against anyone was Lila.

He could guess and say that if she had chosen anyone's side, it was probably Arnold's. But no one was mad at Arnold when he left. He thought that people only got mad at Arnold in the months after, when everything went wrong and he wasn't there to fix it.

* * *

"Not for nothing," Sid heard a voice say from his left, as he stared at his boots and the flower that got thrown at him. "He's really, really sorry. Would you tell her that?" Pale legs appeared by his shoes, sitting on the curb with him. He could hear the dance music still playing inside. Everyone not affected by it was probably already dancing off the events, the drama of the 8th grade dance already had and forgotten.

He was surprised, to say the least, at Lila, all a sight in her green dress, sitting on a dirty curb with him.

"Yeah," He sighed a little, nodding. He looked up at her. "Yeah, I will."

The wind was slightly colder than was comfortable, and Lila wasn't wearing any sleeves. Sid wondered if he should put his suit jacket on her shoulders, but that seemed like a thing that Arnold would have had an easier time pulling off than he would.

Sid couldn't help feeling like Arnold would fix this all so easily. Arnold would walk in one moment, sweep through the crowd, Helga would calm down, Gerald would laugh, and they'd all be back in the lot for a baseball game.

But Arnold couldn't do that due to being, as Helga said, #OMILES away. Gerald had yelled at Eugene, Pheobe went home, Helga Pataki was crying, and Sid, for the first time in his entire life, had wanted _nothing more_ than to help her.

And she told her that there was absolutely nothing he could do.

He realized that a long moment had passed between he and Lila silently.

"She isn't," He stared straight ahead.

"She isn't what?" Lila was looking at his face but he kept looking forward.

"She isn't sorry at all." He finished, nervously rubbing his hands on his pants, still not looking at Lila. "Would you tell him that she is, anyway?"

He felt the smallest puff of hot air on his cheek as Lila let out a breath. "Yeah," She said quietly. She turned to look forward. "Yeah, I will."

"They'll thank us one day."

"I hope so, Sid," Lila leaned a head on Sid's shoulder. If anyone else had done it, he would have thought they liked him. But not Lila. She sighed again. "I truly hope so."

* * *

When Helga burst back forward from the kitchen, new whip cream canister in hand, phone tucked in-between her ear and her shoulder as she talked to Cass, Sid realized it.

He had never done as Lila asked.

He had never told her that Arnold said sorry.

* * *

One thing reminds you of middle school, Gerald thought, and then everything does. He thought about the days in the summer his friends had spent in the park as he walked through it, on his way to meet Arnold. He, in plain truth, didn't remember everything that went down between his friends. He didn't. It was a long time ago, and he had at least two more tons of high school related drama that heaped over top of it now.

He left Helga alone in High School, and she did the same to him. They ran in different circles, so it wasn't an issue.

He'd never said sorry to Pheobe, which he regretted, but the one time he tried in high school it went…disastrously, to say the least.

But with all of this weird-ass reunion of the past shit that Arnold was bringing to him with his return, Gerald could only really remember with crystal clarity the fights he was having with his dad at the time.

"James is making a fool of himself, Gerald, I won't let you make the same mistakes."

"You're not playing on that team next year, you hear me? You're too good for that."

"Why are you spending all your time playing in that lot? That's a waste of your time, Gerald."

All of those comments…he remembered those well. They were what landed him in freshman year on the football team instead of playing basketball, like he wanted to.

They were what, ultimately, landed him in the college who's sweatshirt he was currently wearing.

So, naturally, he remembered them a little better than he remembered any kind of discord between his childhood friends.

Except, maybe, wearing a tie and getting punched in the face by Helga G. Pataki on the same night.

He might remember that, and only that, a _little_ better.

* * *

He heard it before he felt it, he swears he did. They were standing in a dark, sweaty middle school gym, the dance at the end of the year celebrating whatever you wanted to call "graduating" middle school. He was wearing a dress shirt, tie since forwent. The music was pounding a black eyed peas song, but he heard it crystal clear. The crunching noise sent waves through his stomach, and recoiled down like she had hit him there. He stumbled backwards, opened his eyes to see her fist withdrawn, and then he felt the ache in his face, and his hand moved up to clutch it.

This all happened faster than he was making it sound, but it felt like he lived a lifetime in those few moments.

"What the FUCK," if they hadn't drawn a crowd yet, his yell brought them. "WAS THAT." He knew better than to curse on school grounds, but he was fourteen now, it was practically a violation of free speech to stop him. There was definitely blood on his hand, he kept it by his nose carefully, huddled over, trying to keep it from getting on his shirt.

"WHAT YOU DESERVED." He had never heard Helga sound so down-right _shrill_. Angry, yelling, that he could handle. But her voice was up at least an octave and a half, and she held her hand with the other, cradling it like it hurt.

She had backed him into a corner like he had never been in before. He couldn't hit a _girl_ , he couldn't do _nothing_ and stay a man. There was no way out.

She had never looked _more_ unattractive, surprisingly, due to the way the evening started. She was all but snarling at him, face unnaturally red, hair fallen out of their curls to lay limply by her head. She was tall, but not as tall as he was, not anymore, so she had her shoulders rolled up to make up the difference. If he wasn't bleeding, it would have been funny.

Actually, it was funny anyway.

So he did the only thing he could think of to do.

He laughed.

He laughed, and wiped his hand on his black pants, hoping his mom wouldn't kill him later. He was so aware of all of the students looking at them, looking at him, waiting for the response, gawking at his laughter. He wiped his nose again, wiped it on his pants, then crossed his arms, shirt be damned.

"You are," he shook his head, he hoped his chest looked like it was shaking with laughter, not anger, " _such_ a bitch, Pataki."

Her mouth fell open, she moved towards her, but was silenced by a voice looming over them. Gerald's mind immediately went to a teacher, someone told them someone got hit, or maybe a parent.

"ENOUGH! JUST STOP IT!"

When he turned and saw Pheobe standing there, standing there _shaking_ , Gerald had never wanted to just get detention so badly.

* * *

"I have to talk to him first." Lila said decidedly, taking her cap off her head and setting it behind the register. "Are you going to be okay on your own?" She asked Helga, already clicking through the register to clock out.

"Yeah," Helga nodded, leaned against the register. "But what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," Lila lamented, clocking out with a final tap, "But nothing's right either." She unlocked the door by the register, walking out behind it easily.

"Now's not the time for metaphors, Lila." Helga grinned, shaking out her hair a little bit. "You were being cryptic all day, this isn't like you."

"I would, Helga, really," She had a hand on the door, "But I gotta move fast, but hey! You can ask Sid!" She smiled, nodded, and left quickly.

Lila was sure that Helga must be desperately annoyed with her, but she really did need to speak to Arnold before the truth came out in embarrassing little segments from other people. She was amazed she got through a visit with Rhonda without a _complete_ cover blow. And while she was sure she had Gerald's number somewhere, it was all just too complicated, too many players, too many memories. Arnold was too understanding. He had grown so much, he was too mature. He deserved the truth, Lila just wasn't sure _she_ even knew all of it.

* * *

She remembered seeing Helga and Pheobe walk in happily, arm in arm, and Lila smiled at them. Lila, of course, had her own, cheer-related friends, to be with. But she was happy to see her old school chums so happy and so _pretty_. Helga was wearing a black dress, simple, but tasteful, a complement to the streaks of pink at the ends of her hair which looked like it had been recently cut. Pheobe wore yellow, a full skirted dress, and had her hair pinned up at the sides. They were a juxtaposition, in height, in style, but they looked lovely all the same. Gerald did too, Lila noted, as he crossed the room to greet the pair.

"Lila, didn't you hear Nancy's question about your dress?" The voice brought her out of her thoughts and she turned back to her friends quickly.

The next time she saw them was hardly an accident, as she went looking for them.

She hadn't seen, as it was later dubbed, "The Punch Heard Round the World" as she was sitting on a ladies room sink, braiding her friend's hair. None of her friends had opted to bring dates to this dance, and therefore the whole thing had gotten a little boring.

She was just getting around to the back of her friend's head for the braid when a girl whom she definitely had a few classes with had dashed into the bathroom. The girl's name was failing her. She had wanted to sit at their lunch table, but they only had so many seats, because they had to accommodate for Jack, Kelly's boyfriend. When Lauren and Kylie got boyfriends, it got even more tight, until they broke up later. But, as it were, space was limited, and the girl hadn't made actually _made_ it on to the cheer team, so…

"You guys _missed_ it!" She enthused.

"Missed what." Kelly, who's hair she was braiding, deadpanned. Lila giggled a little.

"Gerald just got hit."

"Basketball Gerald?"

"He's actually signed up to play football with my brother this summe-"

"Can it, Lucy." Kelly wiggled forward. It was harder for Lila to finish her braid, the hair slipping out of her fingers. "Who hit him? Jason? Jason never liked him." Lila realized that her friends had a habit of talking over each other in the moments after. She couldn't even keep straight who was trying to speak. They did it at lunch a lot, too. She just tried to finish the braid so she could tie it off with the spare hair tie she had on her wrist.

"That's because Jason used to be the tallest guy."

"Not true- Jake's the tallest boy."

"Okay, Jason used to be the _second_ tallest guy."

"Did we invite Jason to Lauren's birthday party, or did we not? Or did we forget to?"

"I don't know, did we want to? He's probably the _fifth_ tallest guy now."

"Tall doesn't always mean cute, I mean, look at _Jake_."

"I still don't have an outfit for that party, can we go to the mall tomorrow?"

"Maybe my mom would take us!"

"Or my older sister, we're too old for our moms to be taking us places."

"It's a swimming party, though."

"It is?! Oh no…"

"IT WAS HELGA!" The girl, who's name Lila still couldn't remember, shouted over them.

"Helga Pataki?" Lila jumped off the sink, speaking for the first time. She felt a little panicked.

"The one who used to have the," Lucy held a finger over her eyebrows, so they looked connected, and the other girls giggled.

"The one with the _tacky_ pink in her hair?"

"What can you say," Kelly was adjusting the braid Lila had put in her hair carefully in the mirror, "her name isn't Pa- _tacky_ for nothin'."

The girls giggled harder.

"Can you tell me if she's still in there?" Lila asked the girl, looking at her and her braces fully for the first time.

"I think so, she was when I left."

"Thank you…" Lila trailed off, acknowledging she didn't know the name to thank her with. She didn't feel like she was any better than her friends in that moment.

"Marcy."

"Thank you _Marcy_ ," Lila finished, patting her shoulder and dashing off around the corner.

"Lila can be _weird_ sometimes," she heard Kelly's voice as she left, voice echoing off the tiled bathroom walls, "It's a good thing she's hot."

* * *

"Arnold!" Lila saw his blonde head a few blocks away, chatting with an old storeowner.

"Oh, hey, Lila," He looked confused, head tilted oddly. They had plans for the next day, so she supposed her behavior probably was odd.

"May I borrow him?" She said politely to whomever he was chatting with. She didn't really bother to let them answer, as she tugged him away.

"What's up?" He asked, confused. She sat them on a bench, nervously fidgeting. She was really, really cold. She hadn't thought about it being October before dashing out of the shop.

He noticed, as he was unzipping his hoodie.

"Oh, stop it, Arnold."

"Stop what?"

"STOP being so nice, I don't deserve it."

"What's got into you, Lila?" He crossed a knee, leaning forward. "Are you alright?"

"I'm sorry, Arnold, I truly am, but I've got something to tell you that I should've told you ages ago. And I really don't know how I can say it without just saying it, so I'm gonna say it: I lied to you, Arnold. I lied to you for a long time and I've been so bent up by it but I didn't know how to fix it, so I didn't and kept _lying_. It all started after this dance from _hell_ , in the 8th grade, and I didn't want to tell you about it, so I didn't, I just made up that it went well, trust me it didn't. So I kept lying and lying and it was awful of me, and Helga and Gerald aren't close anymore and Phoebe doesn't even like either of them, and I had to make Helga take that picture with me at Prom, and the last half hour was the first time I can remember more than three of our old friends being in the same room for more than ten minutes in _years_."

He was just staring at her, so she kept talking.

"You just… you seemed so happy and you deserved better news than I could give you. So I invented some. I'm…I'm _so_ sorry, Arnold."

He smiled at her sadly. "I kind of figured, actually." He had his phone out. "I mean, this girl," he showed her Gerald's profile picture from June, him and the girl he had taken to prom "looks nothing like Pheobe."

"Shit," Lila swore as she looked down.

"And Gerald and Helga aren't even friends on this thing," he scrolled through his timeline. "So I could make some guesses. I don't know why you had to _lie_ , Lila. I would have been okay." He sighed and he tucked his phone back into his pocket. "But you didn't lie about _everything_. Eugene did have the lead in the musical. Rhonda is going to Columbia, Gerald did play football, Pheobe was valedictorian. Helga definitely _is_ beautiful. You just told me they did all of these things…together. And they," He shrugged "didn't." He smiled at her sadly. "I wish you hadn't lied to me, though."

"Me too," Lila lied again. She didn't regret it yet, she only regretted getting caught. "I'm sorry, Arnold."

"I can accept that," he put a comforting hand on her shoulder. She knew that he didn't say she was forgiven, but the apology was accepted.

"Do you want me to tell you what _did_ happen?"

"Can I trust you?" He asked her playfully, before letting that smile of his, the new one, that she was getting used to, split up his face. She felt a little shame seep in where he had touched her shoulder, the warmth of it feeling more like guilt than human contact. He pushed up off the bench. "Anyway, I'm actually on my way to meet Gerald. He can tell me _all_ about it."

Lila didn't think that that conversation could make her feel worse than when she started, but she stood to be corrected, apparently.

* * *

"Arnold, this is serious, we're stuck downtown, I'm a strawberry, and _we don't have any money._ "

* * *

"Jump the hole?! Arnold, that's the stupidest thing I've ever heard!"

* * *

"You're telling me that we're not _only_ gonna try and save your parents but an _entire population_!? Arnold, I didn't even have _breakfast_ this morning."

* * *

Mariella could tell him as many times as she wanted that everything being more exciting was just a thing that happened because you were a child with bad perception skills, but as Gerald stared at his old best friend, he felt the memories flood back to him. Arnold, tall as hell, tan and kind of _buff_ , looked like adventure rolled into a human being. He couldn't help but feel like his life just got a little more exciting, staring at him as he sat on the steps outside of the boarding house.

"Gerald!" He exclaimed, jumping up quickly. Arnold jumped up to hug him. "Holy cow man," he pulled back, holding his hand out.

Gerald gave him a look, before realizing what he was holding his hand out for. He grinned then, sticking his out to complete their handshake.

"So you remember it, then?" Arnold sounded relieved.

"Of course, man." Gerald did not want one second to be unfilled of talk, he didn't want to let it shift into an awkward territory. "How's Stella? How's Miles? Holy hell, how's that entire race of people we saved? They build a statue of me yet?"

Arnold's eyebrows quirked up in surprise. "They're good, yea- yeah. And uh, they're good too, and not far from it to be honest-" he leant back against the hand rail. "It was a little weird to go back to. But there was this indigenous plant there that made this herbal remedy that mom swore had some correlation to-" He paused. "Do you want to go inside?" He asked Gerald, hand leaning back still.

"Yea-" Gerald nodded, "Sure, man. How many of those crazy house guests have you still got?"  
He let out a breath. "I don't really know." He stared at the door. "I haven't even been inside yet, I've been chilling at my mom & dad's place. They rented out an apartment uptown a little further. Dad wanted a little quiet."

"That makes sense," Gerald nodded, crossing his arms. "I'm sorry about your Grandma, Arnold. How's your Grandpa holding up?"

"He saw it coming." He nodded. "He's more bitter that we have to move him out of this place," He knocked his free hand on the brick wall. "I'm not even sure who lives here anymore. I don't know if they even moved someone up into my room."

"If they took out that beautiful, beautiful couch, that's a crime against humanity."

Arnold took out his keys, "Wanna see?"

* * *

Whoever was in there had come and gone, and they were laying on the floor of a hardwood, now white, room. They did leave the couch, but it was smaller than they remembered it being. So, Gerald and Arnold lay on the floor, looking up through the skylight. Arnold had done most of the talking so far. He talked like a man who wasn't used to people listening.

Gerald wondered if anyone he'd met up with so far even bothered to ask how _he_ was.

"Like, in short, really, really don't mess with monkeys, _especially_ in India." Arnold finished with a huff of air. Gerald smiled, watching the clouds cross the gray sky.

"And to think, all I did in the mean time was throw a ball around a field with a bunch of other guys."

"That's what I heard!" Arnold sat up, running a hand through his hair. "I thought you wanted to do basketball?"

"Yeah, well," Gerald breathed. "My pops had other ideas."

"Footballs still good."

"Yeah… it is." Gerald wanted to sound more committed to it, because he _did_ like it. Really he did. Maybe it was just that it all lead to him staying in Hillwood that got to him. He longed for a new scene, new people. Maybe Arnold, having been removed for so long, felt new to him.

"Well, I gave up baseball. So there's that." Arnold offered with a shrug.

"Really, Arnold," Gerald asked sarcastically, "did you really?"

Arnold didn't respond, just stared around his old room. "They took all the character out of this place, whoever they were."

"I'm amazed they left the couch." Gerald added. "It probably wasn't so bland looking when it had a bed. And furniture."

"And people." Arnold sighed. "I'll do something to it."

"Wait a minute," Gerald pushed off the ground to sit up next to his old friend. "You're gonna live _here_? Really? You traveled the world to come home and live…in an attic? Of a boarding house?"

"I don't know," He pushed up off the ground. "I like it, it's cool. Someone has to stay to figure out what to do with the house, so Grandpa doesn't lose his mind worrying about the boarders. And isn't it a right of passage to graduate and move away from your parents?"

"Did you graduate?" Gerald asked from the floor. "Where did you go to school?"

"On the computer." Arnold told him as he brushed a hand along the wall. "Yeah I did, graduate that is."

"The future is magical," Gerald said as he laid back down.

"Sure is," Arnold replied with a nod. "Think I could get a record player to go here?" He tapped out a corner.

Gerald laughed at him again. Boy traveled the world, took all of his high school on a computer, met hundreds of species, spoke three languages, to come home and try and put a record player into his childhood bedroom.

It was good to know he was still a bold kid.

* * *

 _i now have a tumblr set up. it's .com_

 _if you're interested, ill probably post fics there a little earlier than i'll post here. ill probably post the next chapter of this there tomorrow. i also have headers & bios of my next two stories, if you're curious. theyll be lighter & more romance based than this. this is more of my full hillwood view. they're under the works tab, if you'd like to see. i also like to post the moodboards i make for each character inside each story because it helps me get my footing. i have one for this story posted (helga, who else, lol) but i'll probably be posting a lot more as i have a ton of them made. feel free to follow or message me over there or send me an anon message. if u have a question for me ill probably answer it over there, unless it spoils something in the fic, then thats a no go. :) i just find tumblr a lot less intimidating for some reason. 3 _

_thanks for reading / if you so choose, reviewing. i am really not good at interaction but i still want you to know it is from the bottom of my heart appreciated._

 _love,_

 _k. xx_


	7. Chapter 7

"So," They were sitting in a coffee shop. It was a nice one, with plush chairs and a cozy atmosphere. It was on one of the corners of their town that was safe from the frank gentrification of the whole town. The table was a little worn in, and there was at least three holes in the chair Arnold was currently sitting in. He liked the shop anyway.

Rhonda was sitting in an attempt to look poised while in an armchair, so not very successfully. She had grown to be very pretty, Arnold noticed, but she might be prettier without that weird posture she kept up so carefully.

"Where should I start?" She had her legs crossed, her shoulders were straight. "Okay, this was a while ago, so give me a moment. It might be a little confusing."

"Rhonda," Arnold resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "You don't have to tell me everything. Heck, you don't have to tell me anything, we don't even have to talk about it, if you want. We could talk about…Columbia, or something."

"Nonsense, Arnold, I know why you're here. I can deliver. Just give me a moment."

She did look like she was genuinely thinking.

* * *

Rhonda believed that she was the first one to notice, which was just delightful, really. "Well," She all but announced as the blonde trumped into the classroom. She looked like a pillsbury croissant, rolled into itself. She wore black leggings, dirty converse, and an oversized grey hoodie. It wasn't a bizarre look for the girl, the change was on her _face_. "Just look at _you_."

Sid looked up to where Rhonda was looking, and she enjoyed the little drop of his mouth. If they were ever a thing…well, Rhonda could say she called it.

"What made you do it?" Rhonda pressed, leaning forward. She sat up on her ugg- covered foot. "Lost love? Needed a change? Despair? Losing yourself?"

"Quit it, Rhonda." Helga looked pouty at best, plopping down into her seat. "Hey, Sid." Her hair was down that day, it seemed longer every day.

"I'm just merely asking my friend why she decided to up and-"

"Your friend? Really, Rhonda?" Helga asked hostilely, running a hand back and through her hair. Rhonda suddenly couldn't wait for the day her lily-white skin broke out. "Don't be fake."

"I like it, Helga," Sid piped up unhelpfully. "You look nice."

Helga's hand self consciously raised to touch the space in between her eyebrows- now free of hair. She smiled like she was still considering it. "Thanks, Sid. I think I like it too. It's just different."

* * *

"Well," Rhonda started, taking a sip of whatever was in her cup. "After you left, Helga went crazy. All depressed and the like." She said casually, as if she were discussing the weather.

"She…did?" Arnold questioned.

"It was only like…two weeks after you were gone, she waxed the eyebrow. And it never came back. It seemed like a cry for attention to me."

Arnold tried to analyze the look on Rhonda's face, the purse of her lips. She was a bit unreadable in that moment, looking not directly at him, not directly at anyone else.

"And _of course_ , Gerald didn't really want to be associated with her anymore-"

* * *

March was the worst season for hair, in Rhonda's opinion. The weather couldn't decide what it wanted to be, making it nearly impossible to _prepare_. Her own wasn't cooperating, as she fussed with it in the bathroom of the first floor. Just then, cheerleaders, as they always traveled: in a pack, appeared around the corner, chatting away. Lila was removed from them that day, but they were being led by Kelly, whom Rhonda knew but didn't _know_.

Cheerleading was just so archaic, at any rate.

"Well, if I'm going to the dance with Jack, and Lucy might take Mike, then Peter is probably going to ask Steph. Which means, like, a lot of us will have dates. Which would make it awkward for everyone else, so we just have to find them dates too."

Rhonda tried to focus on straightening her bangs, making sure her side braid was just so, and not on the conversation. But they were talking so loudly, it was only natural that she would listen in.

"Lila said she doesn't want a date." One girl said as she typed on her cell phone. Kelly rolled her eyes. Rhonda tied off her braid, before smiling at the girls, remaining cordial, and walking around the corner. She should have just kept walking, but she paused around the corner, listening.

"Lila only says that because she hasn't been asked yet. But once we find her a date she'll _definitely_ change her mind. We just have to think of who."

"If we get Gerald to ask her, then Jake could probably take Kylie, and that kills two birds with one stone."

"Gerald has a _girlfriend_."

"How long will that last?" Kelly snorted, "Phoebe's…nice, and all, and she's totally making my whole group come together for our bio project, but she's, like, a package deal with that freaky eyebrow girl."

" _Helga_." One of them giggled. "Her boyfriend just moved away, he was Gerald's best friend."

"He probably did it to _escape_." Kelly laughed. "I would. Ugh, does anyone have mascara?" There was a pause as someone flipped through a bag audibly. "It's a shame though, Arnold was a nice guy. _Way_ too short for date material, but nice. So should I bother asking Gerald to sit with us at lunch today, or?"

"Let's see if they last," A girl added on kindly. "We don't want to get a rep as skanks or something."

* * *

"I mean, it was only natural of Gerald, I couldn't blame him, myself. But really, the rest of the year came and went without too much incident, at least that _I_ knew about." She wiggled forward. "And then over the summer, that's when things started to get… _weird_."

* * *

Rhonda didn't know how to react when her mother called her into the kitchen, saying that there was a call from Nadine waiting for her. It wasn't that Rhonda didn't feel a _little_ bad dropping the girl. But for Heaven's sakes, all the girl wanted to discuss was _bugs_. It was gross, and terrible sleepover talk, especially while they were trying to make new friends. It was just in the sake of interest, really, nothing personal.

"…hello?" She answered tentatively.

"Hi, Rhonda," The voice answered calmly. "How is your summer going?"

"…good?" She sat on a stool, resting her elbow on her marble countertop. It was awkward, Rhonda could admit it. She stared at the clock, wondering how long she had to prolong the phone call in sake of politeness.

"My mom is taking a group of friends to Wackyland this weekend, and Eugene can't come on account of being…banned. I was wondering if maybe you'd like to come?"

"…really?" Rhonda had no idea how to respond. Amusement parks were hardly her thing anymore, but the shock of it all kept her from just outright saying that.

There was a sigh. "My mom keeps asking why my little friend Rhonda never comes around anymore, and it's really hard to answer when I…" She trailed off for a moment. Rhonda shifted uncomfortable. "I don't know myself."

"I can come." Rhonda said quickly, before even thinking it through. Guilt was not becoming on Rhonda, and she _hated_ feeling any part of it.

"Do you want to?"

"Absolutely, it'll be grand. What time are we leaving? Is there a dress code?"

Rhonda was sure the awkward car ride cramped between Nadine and her little brother was made up for by the absolute pandemonium that was going on in the parks that day. It seemed like the _entire grade_ was there. She wondered why her friends hadn't told her about it, the impromptu reunion planned by parents.

When she ran into them, it seemed only natural that she and Nadine part ways. She meant, obviously they just didn't have that much in common anymore. Rhonda didn't know how to make that obvious fact obvious to Nadine, however, who simply…didn't seem to be getting it. She tried to conceal her body's little huff of relief when she saw Gerald, Helga and Phoebe, whom, as far as Rhonda knew, Nadine still ate lunch with daily. They looked...happy, standing in a trio, smiles dancing on all of their faces.

"You two are crazy." Phoebe giggled. "There is no way to 'win' at riding rollercoasters."

"She's just sayin' that to spare ya' feelings, you know." Gerald taunted Helga playfully. "She doesn't want to see you get hurt."

"Yeah," Helga had a smug smile on her face, "well, I don't really know how to tally the score on this, Tall Hair Boy, but when I figure it out, you're going _down_."

"No way," He shook his head and leaned in intensely, "whenever we figure out exactly what this game is: I'm going to destroy you at it."

"Bring it on," Helga challenged, "I've got years of experience in…whatever this is."

"What are you two talking about?" Rhonda interrupted, one hand on Nadine's arm, her eye on her friends who were getting dangerously close to the end of the line for water that she had left them in.

Helga and Gerald's eye contact broke, and they looked to Rhonda. They looked back to each other, and then shrugged.

"We don't really know." They said in unison. And then the tension completely broke, all three friends in fits of laughter over their fake competition with no rules and no way to win.

"What's up with you, Lloyd?" Gerald's easy grin was back on his face, and he looped an arm around Phoebe casually. He missed the look Rhonda saw on Phoebe's face, of warmth and adoration towards him. He also missed Helga's eye roll, but Rhonda saw _all_. "Since when do you talk to us?"

"I talk to you guys!" Rhonda protested. It wasn't as if she avoided her old friends, they just ran in different social circles, that was all. She dropped her hold on Nadine's arm, completely unsure how to make this transition.

One of Helga's eyebrows, still an adjustment for Rhonda, raised. "Have humans mastered echolocation and no one told me?" She asked, looking amused, crossing her arms. Rhonda saw out of the corner of her eye her friends reaching the front of the line.

"Well, I need to catch up with some people now,"

"I'm sure you do-" Gerald muttered. Phoebe hit his stomach with a giggle.

"But it was _great_ running into you all," and with that, she turned to hurry back across the opening of the park. Her friend's must have forgotten to stop and wait for her, as they were already moving away. She heard Nadine quietly behind her, but really she had to move fast, and if Nadine had wanted to come, she would have, really.

"Do you want me t-" Nadine had started, but she was intercepted by Gerald's voice.

"Forget her, Nadine. She just ain't worth it."

"Come on-" Helga's voice chimed in over top, "we can be third wheels together!"

"Well, you know," Phoebe had said, "four is always better than three. Four makes a moving vehicle."

"And _ya' know_ \- ain't nobody like a tricycle."

Rhonda couldn't feel guilty about the whole thing, not really. It was just better for them, naturally. Everyone moved on from childhood friends at their age, it was only _natural_. Nadine belonged with Helga and friends, not her, not anymore.

* * *

"I mean, it was middle school, of course, so things were naturally going to change a bit."

Arnold sat back in his chair, watching the odd look fall over Rhonda's face, as she thought about the summer time.

"A lot changed for me that summer. But the weird thing about it was…everyone else seemed perfectly happy. Peas in a pod. There wasn't really a spot for me in it, so I…"

Her voice sounded strange to Arnold, she sat there like she was still in a job interview, not relaxing into her chair at all.

"I had to move on from some things, I guess."

* * *

Rhonda didn't know what happened in those five minutes. She was getting off the ride, vehemently telling her friend that she wasn't sure if the fun to be had was worth the trauma to her hair, and collecting her little cross body bag. When she turned around, her friends weren't in sight. She raced out of the exit for the rollercoaster, but she couldn't find a trace of any of the six of them, the total of preteens that she had traveled around with that day, after two boys joined them at lunch. She walked around the section in a circle, once...twice... feeling more desperate each time. It had cooled down significantly, and Rhonda hadn't brought a sweater. Her sunglasses kept slipping off her head and hitting her nose. There was still no sign of her friends.

They hadn't invited her there in the first place.

They hadn't waited for her at the entrance.

She couldn't find them now.

Rhonda wasn't an idiot, after all.

She didn't know what to do, the sun was collecting in the bottom of the sky, people were starting to get ice-cream and haul their kids out of the park. She still had to find Nadine, but first thing first, she had to collect herself.

She _never_ wanted to be the girl crying in the stall of a bathroom _ever_ again.

Three laughing voices entered the bathroom, so she pitifully tucked her flip-flop covered feet up and under her on the toilet, so they wouldn't know she was there. Maybe she needed new friends, but she could at least keep her _dignity_.

"It's really not funny-" Rhonda's heart sank. The world couldn't give her one tiny break? It was Phoebe's voice she was overhearing, spoken over her small, soft giggles. "I hope Harold feels better."

"The lunk deserves it." Rhonda could hear the eye-roll in Helga's voice. "Who the hell eats an entire plate of nachos, and then rides the Great Wolf? Moron."

"At least it made for a memorable day." Phoebe amended quietly. Rhonda wondered what God she had pissed off that morning, that led her to this bathroom stall.

"You know, as all teens do in the summer with their friends, shove their sick, fat, friend over a fence so they can all run away from the raging soccer mom who's kid he just puked on. Yep, that's totally an episode of Dawson's Creek."

They all laughed again.

Rhonda felt a bit sick herself.

"Anything else you wanna do today, ladies? Phoebe?" Phoebe didn't say anything, so Rhonda could only guess that she gave a non-verbal cue. "Nadine?" She had her guesses as to who else was in the bathroom, but if her heart was in her stomach, it was now in her feet.

Nadine sighed. "I have to find Rhonda, my mom was her ride."

"She might have already left," Phoebe added, warmly and…sadly? "Maybe one of her friend's took her?"

"I can't believe that," Rhonda could see Helga's feet disappear from the window under the stall. Rhonda could only guess she sat on a sink. "You invite her here, and she ditches you, what? Five minutes in? God-" She sounded so _angry_.

"Helga," Phoebe warned. Of course, Rhonda thought, Phoebe was against trash talking.

"No, Pheebs, really. She deserves it. You're a great friend, Nadine. I'm so glad you could hang out with us today, really." Rhonda didn't know when Helga got so nice, even if it was…aggressive. "But I'm so pissed it happened this way. God, what a _bitch_."

Tears stung in the corner of Rhonda's eyes.

"I'm not gonna disagree with you," Nadine sounded so _solemn_. "But whatever she is, my mom will kill me if she's not in that car on the way home, so please, help me find her?"

Rhonda would be grateful for one thing and one thing only that day, and it was that she heard the door swing shut before her sob was audible.

* * *

"I mean, I just had to focus on me, that year," Rhonda was staring out the shop window pensively, face still twisted up in thought. "It was a big year for me, everyone really. I remember Helga and Sid were best friends suddenly, it like, happened over night."

* * *

Rhonda had never spent a summer feeling more alone in her whole life. She didn't have anywhere to go, persay, so she didn't have anything to do. She was waiting outside for her mom to pick up whatever designer purchase she had on preorder at Sak's, when suddenly the door opened, and two kids were shoved out by their collars, maniacal laughter creating so much _fuss_. The door swung shut behind them, and one of them fell over, they were laughing so hard. She looked at the one on the ground, green beanie shoved over long, dark, skater-esque hair. It was Sid. She looked up, and the one standing directly to her right, taller than Rhonda and doubled over with laughter, was _Helga_.

"That-" She wheezed, "Was so worth it."

"My only regret:" Sid mustered up a serious face, "was that we didn't get a picture of his _face_ -" They split into giggles again.

Rhonda wondered incredulously whether or not they were rude enough to not even acknowledge her. So she coughed. She didn't want to interrupt, or anything. She just wondered if they saw her standing there, that was all.

"Oh," Helga's face fell, and she leaned down a hand to help up Sid. "Hey Rhonda."

"Oh!" Rhonda didn't know why she was faking surprise. "My! I didn't even _see_ you two there." She saw the look Sid sent Helga. "What are you two doing all the way uptown?"

"Ah, the usual Tuesday afternoon stuff." Helga explained easily.

"Putting the male mannequins in the suit department in ladies' lingerie." Sid's grin ate up half his faee.

"Don't you think that's a bit," Rhonda sneered, "immature."

Rhonda didn't know the reaction she was expecting but it wasn't the cool, calm one that Helga had.

She was squinting at Rhonda, genuinely puzzled expression on her face. "Do you even know how to have fun?"

It was July, but Rhonda hadn't felt particularly humid, like the air was sticking to her, until that moment.

"I do!" Sid interjected, grabbing Helga's wrist, "and I know we're not having any, so come on, I bet we have enough time to make it to the paint shop before they close, later Rhonda!"

They didn't bother to wait for her response, not that she really had one.

* * *

"And then that autumn, the autumn of eight grade, well, I just got so involved in my own activities I barely saw any of our old chums, until…" Her eyebrows scrunched up, and unfurrowed. A light of mirth spread across her face. "Until Helga got involved. She does that, doesn't she?"

* * *

Rhonda had a good September and a better October because she single-handedly willed it into existence. It wasn't so much that clubs _forced_ others to be in her presence, but she certainly got around, being on the Newspaper and Yearbook committees. She had drive that others didn't have- and that's why she was the lead editor. The allegation that Rebecca Yoshen's mom had, that Rhonda bullied her way into her seat, was absolutely _preposterous_.

But it wasn't quite enough, and that's how Rhonda found herself sitting there, waiting to audition for the school musical, Footloose. She'd be a shoo-in for the lead role, Ariel. She at least had the look for it, and the sound would come with time. She felt confident as she sang for the role, and even more-so reading for the part.

She just sincerely wanted to know who in the Heavens she pissed off so badly, as she read the cast list and saw that Helga Pataki got Ariel, and she got the part of the main guy's mom.

* * *

"We actually did the school musical together-" Rhonda began to tell Arnold, hand adjusting her grip on her coffee. Arnold took a tentative sip of his own- finding his own to still be warm. Warm, but not good. Nothing compared to the coffee in South America, nothing. "That lasted all the way from October through Februrary. And if I can recall properly, right around Christmas time, that's when everything started to fall apart…"

* * *

"I don't understand,"

"There isn't anything for you to understand, Gerald."

"Clearly, there is, Phoebe."

Rhonda knew better than to snoop, but she wasn't snooping. She had the right, as every other student did, to use the library. So she was taking an extra interest today in… she looked around for what section she was standing in.

Pre-Civil war autobiographies.

They always were interesting.

She picked up a book to flip through, and she wasn't shifting closer to the bookshelf so she could hear better. The lighting was simply so much better if you had the shade of the bookshelf over your text. That was all.

"Why won't you come to practice tonight?"

"I told you, I'm busy."

"Doing _what_?"

Rhonda flipped a page, reading the text more intensely.

"Are you at least coming to the game tomorrow?"

Rhonda noticed the lack of Phoebe's voice more than she would have noticed if she spoke. She really was a mouse of a girl.

" _Phoebe_!"

"Gerald, I'm sorry, but I can't. I just can't. I have other obligations."

"That you can't tell me about?"

More silence.

"What _is it_ with her and all of these _fucking_ secre-"

"Language, Gerald. And, _really_ , it isn't any of your business."

"It _becomes_ my _business_ when it directly affects me! I swear to God, Pheebs- she's doin' this on purpose-"

"That's _so_ incredibly self-centered of you to say, Gerald. And this is hardly the place to discuss this,"

Phoebe was nothing if not the voice of reason.

"I will text you later," Rhonda heard the sound of her lips on his cheek, and her footsteps leading away.

Rhonda couldn't help that she had overheard, it was just that, she checked the cover of the book she was reading again, Grant and Sherman: The Friendship That Won the Civil War was just _so_ fascinating.

* * *

"That was when Gerald and Phoebe started fighting. I'm not sure why, or maybe I don't remember. But I'm fairly certain it must have had something to do with Helga."

She shifted again, sipping another time.

"Anyway, me and Helga- our characters didn't interact much during the play, but as the leads," Rhonda had another odd expression on her face, the one that made it seem like she was lying, "we saw each other. I don't remember much of it."

* * *

It was February, and it was opening night. Helga was standing by the sound and light board, letting Sid tape a microphone to her face. Sid was dressed in all black, as he worked the sound board for the show, his hair grown into a bieber-esque swoop then. He still was shorter than her, reaching up to press the tape into her cheek. She complained loudly about it, edging away from his hand.

Rhonda only let the jealousy burn in her chest for a moment. Rhonda had to share her microphone with other students, so it was clipped to her shirt, not taped to her face. Helga's hair was blown out into voluminous curls, wearing jean shorts and the signature red cowboy boots. Rhonda had to have her hair in a bun, and she was wearing mom-jeans.

"Sid, _Sid_ ," Helga admonished. "It's fine, they'll be able to hear me in _Singapore_."

Rhonda wasn't sure if her mic was working, so she was going to have Sid check it again.

"Did you save the seat?"

"No."

"Sid," she whined.

"I'm joking. It's right there." He pointed to a seat with a black leather jacket laid over top of it. "Where it's always been. Every single time, of the ten times you asked."

"Sorry." She apologized. Rhonda thought she never really did get used to the sound of Helga making an apology. "Do I look okay?"

"You look awesome!" Sid enthused, touching her hair so it fell over the tape of her microphone. "Go stand on stage, I want to check your sound one more time."

"Sid, this is like the sixth time-"

"There's nothing wrong with a little extra preparedness."

Rhonda didn't remember much else from that night, except that when she retired from seeing her mom and her dad, holding a large bouquet of roses, and a handful of Kisses to the Cast the yearbook team had sent her, she walked back towards the gym where the girls were changing their clothes. She wondered how she would open the door with her hands so full, but that thought was answered for her- because she didn't. Helga pushed through, changed out of her costume before most of the kids even made it back to the dressing room, pushing her way out of the door, storming down the hall, wiping furiously at her face.

Rhonda was kind enough to return Helga's microphone, which she left sitting on a chair, _so_ unprofessional, to the sound booth when she returned her own. The boy who collected it was a zitty boy named Marvin- not Sid, as it normally was.

* * *

"I guess the play didn't go as she planned," Rhonda frowned, looking at Arnold's eyes for the first time in a while. "At any rate, it was the last one she did, as far as I knew. And after that, things got kind of, really weird for some reason. You only ever saw Phoebe and Gerald or Phoebe and Helga, never all three. I think Helga was in love with her or something."

"Helga?" Arnold raised an eyebrow. "In love with Phoebe?"

"Well, Helga's into girls now, as I mentioned before," Rhonda uncrossed her legs, leaning forward with a look of sympathy. "Oh, god, I'm sorry. Do you know what gay people are?"

Arnold had to crack a smile. "Yes, Rhonda, I know what gay people are."

"Oh," She leaned back again, recrossing her legs in the other direction, "well Helga isn't all the way gay, but she's bi, or something. I don't really know. She came out in, like, tenth grade."

"And you think that's what led to her and Gerald fighting? Her being in love with…Phoebe?"

"Why do you sound like you're doubting me?" Rhonda tossed her hair over her shoulder.

"I've known Helga for a long time," Arnold said carefully. "And it…doesn't seem like her."

"You weren't there, Arnold. It's about how you act around a person. I'm good with telling, trust me-"

"I'm not doubting you are, Arnold, but Helga has known Pheobe for forever, so don't you think that-"

"Do you want me to finish the story or not?" Rhonda dead-panned.

Arnold, paused. It had grown a little cold between them, the coffee shop still brim and bristling with noise and light. He settled back into his chair, calming himself, and nodded for her to continue.

"Anyway, everything came to a head at the school dance-"

* * *

Red really just was Rhonda's color, she saw other girls wearing it at the dance that night, naturally, but Rhonda couldn't help but feel for them. It just didn't warm their skin the way it did hers. She had spent most of the night with her friend Maggie, who worked on the yearbook with her and agreed with her on many things, standing by the punchbowl, discussing dresses. Lila and her friends, a little stuck up, in Rhonda's opinion, passed by. Lila probably looked the best of them. Or maybe Kelly- but her long, blonde hair did the talking for her.

Helga's hair choices after the musical, to dye the under parts pink, were a little tacky, in Rhonda's opinion. At least she went with a black dress, to tone down the whole look.

She was talking with Maggie and her friend, Jamie, about whether or not neutral toned dresses were always to be accessorized with bright accessories, when they heard shouting, and Rhonda had to stand up from the lunch table they were sitting at.

"What the FUCK" Rhonda knew that voice, too, "WAS THAT?"

"WHAT YOU DESERVED."

Rhonda was, maybe mildly undignifiedly, power walking towards the source of the shouting, ergo, Helga and Gerald. She thought Maggie and whomever were trailing nearby behind her, but she couldn't be sure. She had other things to focus on.

She missed whatever Gerald said next, because Lila, followed by her gang of friends, made an entrance near the front of the gym, Lila mimicking Rhonda's powerwalk.

"ENOUGH!" A shout brought her attention back to the action, a small, trembling Phoebe standing in between Gerald and Helga. "JUST STOP IT!"

"Phoebe, I-"

"I don't want to hear it!" She exclaimed. A hush had fallen over the entire cafeteria. "I KNOW you two decided to hate each other- but do you know what else I know? My two _best friends_ haven't talked to me all night, in favor of **_fighting_**! And I'm _sick_ of it."

"Pheebs- she start-"

"Enough with the excuses! You two will use any excuse in the book to treat each other, and me, like _garbage_. I'm _done_ with fighting, and I'm _done_ with picking sides, and I'm…"

Rhonda's breath caught in her throat as she noticed Phoebe's voice was welling up the way one's did when they tried not to cry.

"done with _both_ of you."

And with that, Phoebe turned around, and stormed past Rhonda, past Lila, and her gaggle of friends, and through the doors of the gym.

"This," Gerald looked… more infuriated than Rhonda had ever seen him look. He looked…older, when angry, "is all your fault." Gerald spoke through gritted teeth to Helga cooly as the door slammed shut.

Her hand raised again, and the students gasped, but Sid's reflexes were fast, and he appeared out of nowhere, roughly grabbing her arm.

"Students-"

Rhonda forgot there were even chaperones. Rhonda also didn't notice when the music had stopped playing- but at some point it had.

"What is going on here?!"

"She-" Gerald pointed a finger in Helga's face, face mustered up in anger, before he turned away, letting out an exasperated cry. "Agh!" He pushed his hands away from his body, like he could shove the anger out of his bones through expression. He pushed through the crowd that had formed, grabbing his suit coat off the back of a chair, and stormed towards the exit Phoebe had just ran through. Rhonda watched the still staggeringly-tall, Stinky, follow him.

"Helga, please," Rhonda's attention was back on the floor, as Sid wrestled, sort of, with her. She wriggled loose from him.

"God, just FUCK OFF, Sid." She shouted, as she finally pushed him away from her. She turned, and literally shoved a student, as the teacher who had just spoke admonished her.

"Helga, _language_! You'll have detention for that! COME BACK HERE, YOUNG LADY."

Rhonda didn't know where she was going, doing her stormy walk towards the opposite direction Phoebe and Gerald had gone in, towards the only other door in the room. It was an emergency fire exit.

She turned around with a grimace. "Bite me." She growled, as she pushed the handle.

The alarm sounded. Everyone in the room, Rhonda included, hunched over, covering their ears from the alarm's loud attacks.

Everyone in the room, except Sid, who had already taken off in a run towards the door.

"SIDNEY JONES, YOU COME BACK HERE THIS INSTANT, YOUNG MAN, YOU CANNOT LEAVE THE DANCE WITHOUT A PARENT-"

Sid apparently cared about as much as Helga did, as the pandemonium ensued of the kids whining and the adults shuffling to shut off the alarm.

Rhonda felt someone brush by her shoulder,

"Oh, Helga…" Someone said, so quietly Rhonda could barely hear them over the alarm, sounding disappointed. She looked up and Lila was standing there, staring off at where Helga and Sid had disappeared.

Rhonda watched Lila consider the situation, teachers herding kids out into the halls where the sirens were less loud, two dads fiddling with the music in the corner, her friends with their hands clutched over their ears.

Rhonda watched Lila slip, undiscovered, out the door that Sid left ajar.

Rhonda thought there was no one in her life that she understood less than she understood Lila.

* * *

"I mean, long story short, Helga punched Gerald, Gerald called her a bitch, Phoebe dumped both of them, and Helga set off a fire alarm." Rhonda summarized quickly for Arnold.

Arnold blinked, that was more information than he had gotten in the last hour in one sentence. Rhonda said it so casually too, although he guessed the story must have been legendary- he was sure she told it many times.

"Whoa- what? Why?"

"You'll have to ask them." She shrugged. "I just know the events. Of course, you know my theory-"

"Helga and Phoebe, yeah, I got it." He sat back in his arm chair, drinking what was left of the mediocre coffee. She was talking again, but Arnold wasn't really listening, running over all the information she just gave him in his mind.

Arnold never thought he'd leave that shop, hugging Rhonda one more time before he went, with more questions than he came with.

Hillwood had a knack for surprising him in that way.

* * *

 _a/n this took me a while...rhonda is tough & the way i wanted this to go is tough. this really is about /everyone/ tho not just the fearsome foursome as i call them in my head, so i will be taking time in these chapters to shed light on other characters- of course, in my style, so minimal, confusing light. sorry if that isn't your cup of tea 3 im really having a ton of fun writing this, and i hope you're having fun playing nancy drew with arnold & piecing together pieces of what happened 33 _

_thank you for reading, & if you leave reviews, thank you so, so much. it warms my heart from the inside out and really encourages me to keep going. it's really impactful, thank you so much. love y'all._

 _xx k._


	8. Chapter 8

"So," Sid was pushing his way into the froyo shop, munching ostentatiously on a bagel. "Ms. Lila, rumor around town is that you went out to dinner with a Mr. Arnold last night, and really, the nations begging," he sat on a table, shoving more bagel into his mouth "details?"

"What are you insinuating, Sid?" Lila said with a sly smirk, as she wiped down a few tables further into the lobby. Helga continued to flip through the channels on one of the large tvs, keeping her attention on her friends though, with semi-amusement flicked on her face.

"Well, you're single, you're both red-blooded adults. What did you wear? Did he pay?" His voice reached higher pitches, like he did when he was intrigued, Helga knew. He leaned forward, hungry grin directed towards Lila.

She blinked at him, and then scooped the debris from the counter into her hand, walking over to the trash. "He messaged me on Facebook, and asked me to meet him out, so I went. We talked about his life since he's been gone, about his house, and he did pay, but he also ended it with the note he asked me to give Helga, which I already did."

"It's true," Helga added noncommittally, shoving her chin in her palm as she flipped through channels. "She did."

"And, how old are we," Lila amended, looking the shop over one more time, "in which two friends can't get dinner with each other without their other friends running a gossip circle?" She held out her hands expectantly.

"One," Helga rinsed out the rag she had left on the counter "I'm friends with none of you, two:" she tossed the rag to Lila, who caught it gracefully, "there are four participants, that would be a gossip square."

"No," Lila said as she wiped down a table "well, first of all, you're friends with all of us,"

"True, Tic-Tac," Sid added in, staring in between the two girls.

"Second: there were two dinner participants, two discussing the dinner had. That's not a square. That's a gossip…line, or something."

"I discussed nothing," Helga corrected her with a smile, "Sid may as well have been talking to himself. He does that."

"Sounds like something a _friend_ would know." He scoffed at her. "Can't believe you- 'we're not friends.' I give you six years of my life and get the 'we're not friends' card." He bit into his bagel gruffly.

"Can't be considered 'friends' if your mom is paying me." Helga joked.

"Okay, my mom can barely pay for our electricity, and," Sid drew out the word 'and' like a song, "she hates you."

Helga laughed finally, squinting at Sid like he had won a battle "you got me there."

"I always do." He bit into his bagel again. "Next step," he said through a mouth full of bagel, "is getting you to admit that you're hopelessly in love with me."

Sid had been playing this game with her for as long as she could remember being friends with him. It just went with their friendship, his ever-evolving hairstyles, her piercing fascinations, his loss and later rebirth of the leather jacket, her eventually having to look up at him- his height finally winning out over hers.

The insistence that Helga was secretly in love with him was just part of it- and a complete joke, but seemingly, a joke that was never going to die.

"It'll be any day now, Sid." Lila threw in to the conversation, spinning behind the short door to step behind the counter to deposit her rag back in the bucket. "Although the re-arrival of a certain _someone_ may slow your production."

"Yeah, shit-" Sid was walking towards her- "You're getting love notes and not texting the group chat?" He was referring to the group text between her, Sid, and Cass- a seemingly never-ending stream of consciousness despite there only being three participants. "Where is it?" His eyes were scanning over her body in a non-perverted way, looking for the letter.

"In the back," Lila answered for her. "She didn't even open it yet," Lila seemed to pout as she grabbed the broom that was by the counter.

"What is with you two and the third degree?" Helga walked over to the little bar of toppings, scooping out some swedish fish into her hand. "I'll read the note whenever I please." She tossed a few of the fish into her mouth, chewing agressively.

"I bet she already told Cass about it." Sid whined, licking some cream cheese off his hand.

Helga threw the remaining fish at him.

* * *

Helga wasn't expecting a declaration of love, or anything. Maybe a cellphone number or an invite.

It was…an invite alright.

And that's how she found herself, four days later, on a Friday night, shifting through her wardrobe for something to wear that was black in the way that said "sorry your grandma died," and not in the "I'm a hot badass" way.

"Do you wear heels to funerals?" She said as soon as her phone connected.

"You say that like I go to funerals for fun." Cass answered dryly. "And hello to you too."

"Why do I feel like all my clothes are slutty?" Helga laid down on her bed in the small room, exasperated. "Am I slutty?"

"I wouldn't use the word _slutty_ ," Cass corrected kindly. "More like…tastefully provocative?"

"I feel like I should own a cardigan," Helga looked disdainfully at the pile of clothes she collected by the edge of her bed, the one that was too close to the closet for her to slide open the doors comfortably. She hated being in such a cramped space, but she didn't necessarily get options about those things. "Isn't that like…a requirement? For being a fundamentally functional young woman? A cardigan?"

"I didn't know there was a rule book to womanhood," Cass replied honestly. "We're probably breaking a lot more rules than cardigans."

"Is denim out of the question?"

"For a funeral? I would say yes."

Helga groaned, running a hand across her face.

"Are any of Olga's things there?"

Helga hated the way her heart froze momentarily- but it did all the same. She sat up quickly, uncomfortable with the energy that surged through her after her heart regained tempo. She had the tense need to walk around, to dispense it.

"No." Helga answered. "She, uh, she took everything."

Cass didn't bother asking if Miriam had left anything either, and Helga could thank God, or whomever. Even if she had, Helga wouldn't want it on her body or anywhere near her, really.

"Okay," Cass spoke quietly, "I know you have that one black long sleeve t-shirt."

"The one with the open back?"

"No, the one you got at Target that one day Sid accidentally dumped mayo on you."

"I thought I gave that away?"

"I saw it in your closet before I left, because I almost took it, check the top shelf."

Helga sorted herself out, standing up to check the top shelf of her closet, where she kept all her tshirts. Low and behold, it was there.

"You have that black skirt, from that brief Kardashian phase you had-"

"It was a lapse of judgement,"

"Whatever you want to call it-" Helga could hear Cassidy's grin through the phone, a smile spread on her own face against her will. "Try it with the t-shirt, you should be fine."

Helga had the ensemble half way on her body, wiggling it up, the Kardashians did love their clothes _tight_ , she was laughing at one of Cass's college stories she told over speaker phone, when she heard the door to the condo open and slam shut.

"Hey, Cass," She picked up the phone, turning it off it's speaker, slipping it to her ear. She spoke in a hushed tone, trying to keep the edge out of her voice.

"I heard him." Cass inserted before Helga could say anything else. "I'm gonna go, I'll finish telling you about Rachel and the fish later. Love you,"  
"I love you too." Helga replied earnestly. "Talk later, bye."

* * *

She thought the last place on earth she wanted to be was in her family home staring at her shit father, but it turned out the actual last place on earth she wanted to be was sitting in a dusty funeral home, next to Gerald Johanssen.

His hands were tapping out a rhythm on his knee nervously. They sat there in silence, in between the people coming to say hello to them. She wondered if she would feel less awkward without him sitting there, or moreso. She didn't even remember, really, choosing to sit down with him. In a room full of strangers, and a lot of elderly people, it seemed like the most viable option.

They made eye contact the second she walked in, staring at each other in the dark hall of the funeral home, him already seated in a pew in the very back of the room. They stared for a moment, before Gerald did a small nod, a way of greeting. She made a beeline for him.

The people in the room weren't really strangers, though- they were all people from the neighborhood, affectionately crooning over Arnold, and stopping by to tell Gerald and Helga how they remembered when they were little- asked about their parents.

Helga tried her hardest to stay polite, answer questions, dodge questions about college- but she just really wanted to tuck into her phone and text Cass.

From the slight sweat above Gerald's eyebrow, she could tell he felt the same way.

It was arguably the first time she felt connected in anyway to Gerald in years.

Eventually the peace in solidarity was interrupted, just a choice few moments before the ceremony- a large, warm hand appeared on her shoulder, and she turned over it to look at Arnold's still alarmingly tan face beaming at her.

"Thanks for coming guys," He gripped her and Gerald's shoulders, "Grandpa would like to say hi to you both, would you come say hello?"

Gerald was standing before Helga could even say yes.

* * *

The weirdest thing about funerals was the uneasiness it instilled in you for the future. It almost flashed at you with blinking lights "YOU ARE NOT AS IMMORTAL AS YOU THINK YOU ARE, EVERYONE ENDS UP LIKE THIS." Helga tried her hardest to shake it from her mind, but it was there during almost every moment of the funeral.

"YOU'LL DIE ONE DAY."

She was glancing over her program nervously- listening idly to the pastor giving his speech.

"EVERYONE YOU KNOW WILL DIE ONE DAY."

She didn't know when her hands started shaking, when her throat started to catch. She stared up at the front of the church, where Arnold was seated, arm over his Grandfather's shoulders. She could see, even from her distance, his hand rubbing soothingly across it. She longed for the touch of anyone. Something that made her feel a tether to earth in someway.

She looked up at Gerald, sitting on her right. His jaw looked tightened up. It always did in someway- Helga thought she could chalk it up to just growing up, but Gerald seemed more jaded than everyone else who had grown a jaw line. His lips were set in a tight line, his brow was slightly furrowed. She noticed his breathing was uneven.

Everyone hated funerals.

Helga wondered, mildly, for a moment why they were even thrown.

It wasn't like the dead were there to appreciate them.

She turned her attention back to the prayer that was being said, shifting in the wooden pew uncomfortably, before she realized her mistake.

In her shuffle around in the pew, she realized she had accidentally pressed her leg into Gerald's, mutual body heat spreading between them.

It wasn't comforting, it was actually really discerning.

She didn't want to move away, and feel like she made a Statement- a Notice to him that Hey! We're Still Not Friends!

She didn't want to give him that message.

She didn't know what message she wanted to give him, but it certainly wasn't that.

She was too old for that shit.

She was midway through wondering whether or not he was as uncomfortable as she was, and if moving would be a justice to both of them, when his hand moved from resting on his program to on her knee.

She might have gone into shock if she hadn't seen him move it there.

She looked up at his face- he neglected to take his eyes off the priest and actually look at her, but he picked up his hand and patted her knee, then gave it a small, soothing rub, then left it there- where he put it, on her knee.

She was amazed at three things in that moment.

The first was that, after all these years, she could still read Gerald so well. His movements got his message across loud and clear: "Calm the fuck down, Pataki."

The second was how cool, calm, and collected he had become. Maturity may as well have been written across his face.

The third was that she, in some small way, wished she had seen the process of him coming to be that way. She assumed he had just had to sort of…become the Arnold he lost.

Cool, calm, collected.

Helga realized that the congregation was singing a song, Gerald was using his other hand to hold up a booklet to read the hymn and sing quietly. Helga hadn't even noticed it started.

She hated funerals.

* * *

They didn't do the thing where they were all to follow a black limousine to a graveyard and watch the body be put into the ground, and Gerald could all but thank God above. It was weird enough spending an evening in the company of no one really but Helga Pataki- mourning a woman he had spoken to in years, he was glad he could skip the graveyard.

Though time had done wonders for Helga's beauty, and really, it was obvious she was her sister's sister, it had done nothing for her anxiety apparently. She was nervous the entire ceremony- shifting awkwardly every few moments. Gerald couldn't help but feel for the girl, and he still did, standing in the reception area with her, sipping whatever drink was in the large decorative bowl. They didn't say anything yet, just stared around the room as they watched weeping adults mingle. He hated funerals as much as the next guy- but Helga seemed to really hate funerals, he watched her eyes- large and blue, dart towards the exit every few moments. He could tell she was already formulating an escape in her mind, and he couldn't blame her. He was only hoping he could get on the caboose of her express train of getting the Fuck out of there.

Arnold made eye contact with him, standing across the room as a few people reached high to pinch his cheek, and Arnold winked at him. He shook the people off him, before crossing the room to stand in front of Gerald and Helga.

"Well," Arnold said quietly to them, "She would have hated this."

"Who?" Helga's eyebrows fluttered together. Gerald realized they must have been waxed recently- they looked very clean.

"Grandma," he looked over his shoulder at the clearing of adults making small talk. He gave a little nod and a solemn look. "She would have really hated this."

Gerald pressed his lips together, recalling the memories of Arnold's grandmother. She was a bit off her rocker, always was.

"You're right man," he pressed his lips together and nodded. He set his drink down and shoved his hands into his pockets. "She probably would've."  
"Well, you know what they say…" Helga shrugged, speaking quietly.

A woman with an abnormally large head and a pretty tall stature finished her statement. "Funerals aren't for the dead, they're for the living." She announced broadly, swinging in from behind Arnold. She was a tall, sturdy looking woman, nearly as tall as Helga. Her head showed as clear as day who she was- Stella, Arnold's mother. Gerald remembered meeting her in San Lorenzo with a smile. She was a woman who aged with absolute grace- the wrinkles on her face looking earned, not fought against. "Gerald, Helga," She regarded them with warmth, "I'm thankful you two came. Phil was happy to see you. He and my husband are still with her, over there." She turned to look back at the hall that she had just walked from.

"Of course, Mrs. S," Helga had a sympathetic smile on her face. "We're sorry for your loss." Gerald was surprised that it didn't sound more odd- Helga speaking for him. It sounded natural, as if it were something she often did.

"Yes, well," She laid a hand on Arnold's cheek "me too." She pat it gently. Gerald watched Arnold respond with love, laying a hand on his mother's hand. Gerald realized that Arnold probably never had a phase where his parents embarrassed him, his gratitude was blatant in everything he did around them.

It made him feel like his heart grew a size.

"But really," Stella said earnestly, "She wouldn't want you kids here, this is just…sad, it's what this is-" She started pushing them, Arnold included, towards the hall that led towards the exit. "Go out, go do something with your friends, and _really_ -" her eyes had a twinkle in them, a mischief behind the green. "Cause a little _extra_ trouble tonight, for her."

Gerald looked in between Stella and Helga- then down the hall were Arnold's grandmother was. There was no direct, blood relation, naturally, between the three women, but his mind drew a connection.

The Shortman men had _very_ similar taste.

* * *

Arnold had very little clue what to do when they got outside, as they were all walking in silence down the hall towards the exit. The gist of the story he got from Rhonda told him that suggesting the three of them hang out was a pretty bad idea. He hung out with Gerald, what he really wanted to do was talk to Helga- but he didn't see any viable way to do that without any kind of awkwardness.

He just wanted to know her- who she was now, a little better. He wasn't expecting her to come, but he wasn't surprised that she did. He was just glad that she and Gerald seemed to have mutually put aside whatever happened for the duration of the evening. He also knew his Grandpa was happy to see them, which was nice too.

Gerald had his hand on the entrance to the funeral home, and he swung it open, gesturing for Arnold and Helga to head out through it. Arnold nodded at him, a smile showing his thanks, following Helga through.

Everyone continued to neglect to say anything.

So, Arnold did.

Because somebody had to.

"So, guys, thanks again for coming. I know it's a Saturday night, and all, but it meant a l-" Gerald had let the door swing shut behind him, hopping cooly down the small set of steps that led to the ground and parking lot.

Arnold's sentence was cut off, however, by the door swinging open again.

"Hey, kids-" His dad was leaning out through the door, voice hushed but urgent. "Wanna do me a _favor_?" Arnold didn't know why, but he got a wary feeling from his father. Whatever he was going to ask of them didn't seem like a _simple_ task.

"Dad, it's Saturday night and they alread-"

Arnold was interrupted again, but this time by Helga.

"What did you have in mind?" She asked flatly.

Arnold didn't know what to make of the mischievous grin that split across his father's face, but if he knew him at all, he knew it would be a long night.


	9. Chapter 9

"I'm not gonna lie to you guys-" Gerald stepped into the truck behind Helga, so she sat in the middle of the massive thing- Arnold in the driver's seat on the other side. "This might be the most fucked up thing I've ever been actively apart of."

The stars were already starting to sparkle in sky- Helga hadn't even realized how late it had gotten. Helga looked up at Gerald- who's skin looked darker than it was in the dim light.

"I'm not gonna lie to you guys-" She repeated, mussing around herself, looking for her seatbelt, "This probably _isn't_ the most fucked up thing I've ever been actively a part of."

Gerald looked down at her- bewildered expression almost amusing to Helga. She frowned and shrugged at him, while Arnold started the truck.

"Oh Jesus _Christ_ , Pataki." He muttered, running a palm over his face. Arnold raised an eyebrow at her. She smiled sweetly. He laughed, looking up at the rear view mirror, before resting an elbow by Helga's shoulder, so he could look to pull out.

She wiggled, trying to keep balance in the middle so she was touching neither of the boys on either side of her. "What's the plan?"

"Uh-" Gerald was rubbing his hands on his pants- they were probably sweaty. "Besides the part where we're gonna set a dead body on fire?"

"Well there's the part where we have to steal the boat first." Arnold reminded him. Helga snorted.

"How illegal is this?" Gerald asked, pulling at the tie around his neck until it loosened enough to untie it. He had already forgone his jacket- leaving it in his car. He left his car at the dealership they picked up the truck from, no one had a car big enough to accommodate for a boat. Helga didn't even have a car.

"Pretty." Helga answered plainly.

"How much time do we have?"

"Almost none."

"Fantastic."

"It's fine guys-" Arnold was leaning over Helga to check his blind spot before pulling out. "All we have to do is get this truck to my bitchy great aunt's estate, get the rowboat out of her shed without detection- get the boat and the truck back to the funeral home, collect my grandma's dead body before that casket starts to get lowered into the ground, put her in the boat, light it on fire, and sail it out to sea, again without detection."

They sat in silence for a few moments, soaking in Arnold's sentence. It hadn't sounded that insane when Miles laid it out to them in the beginning. Helga frowned at the moon reaching further into the sky.

"I really, really wish I was wearing sweatpants right now." She mused.

* * *

"What time are they lowering the body in?" Helga asked, she thought he already told them that- but the silence was killing her. She wished could tuck up a foot under her.. In the tight Kardashian-esque midi skirt she was wearing- it simply wasn't possible. "Or…casket, rather," she corrected awkwardly.

"Just after sunrise, like 7:30. There'll be brunch after."

"Ugh, brunch-" Helga groaned, "It's just breakfast for people who think they're better than everyone else."

"Hey, watch it-" Gerald warned, "brunch is a fine, upstanding meal. If I can get eggs and chicken in one meal, I'm a happy camper."

"Who decided that eggs are only a breakfast food, anyway?" Arnold chuckled, but Helga continued ardently "I'm serious! Who became the King of Breakfast and dictated that eggs only be consumed in the morning, it's honestly plagued me for yea-"

"Won't your family notice you're missing?" Gerald interrupted.

Arnold snorted. "Not that side. Why do you think we have to do this in the first place?" Arnold was pulling on to the highway that would take them out of town- the dark night sweeping by.

"Is that what happened?" Helga wondered sincerely. Arnold ran a hand through his hair. Helga watched him curiously- he truly was lucky that it eventually fell down instead of sticking up bizarrely.

"Yea- kind of. My grandma begged my grandpa a million times- don't let them put her in a box." He spoke almost emotionally, pulling on to the the fast lane. Helga knew that Arnold was raised by his grandparents- he loved them deeply. But it was moments like that one that truly reminded her. "But his word didn't count for much when it comes to my great aunt Joanne- anything other than a traditional burial is 'un-Christian' to her, she wouldn't have it." He had a some-what mischievous grin spreading across his face.

Helga liked the look on him.

"Well, she is having it- she just doesn't know it."

"Do you know where the boat is on the estate?" Gerald looked like he was calculating things in his head already.

"Arnold shook his head. "I've only been once and it was a complete disaster. It was a Thanksgiving when I was like.. 6, or so? It ended with Grandma telling Joanne God was dead and _so_ many mashed potatoes on the floor."

Helga couldn't help but laugh. "I love your Grandma."

"Me too," Arnold smiled fondly. "I know the estate is huge, I think they might have horses somewhere. There's a freaking lake. It should be fairly simple, though, it's Saturday night so her staff is off- and the family is all staying in the city for the funeral."

"Really?" Helga questioned. "When they only live a two hours out of town?"

Arnold rolled his eyes. "You wonder why we don't talk to them much?"

She smiled. "Point taken."

"Why do we have to steal the boat?" Gerald interrupted, rolling up his sleeves. "No offense, Arnold- but if ya' extended family is old money, ya' parents are new. We coulda' gone to that hipster sporting store on 3rd and Main and been done with this in like…ten minutes."

"Because it's Grandma's boat." Arnold answered earnestly. "It was a gift from her father- it's just a rowboat. But because the estates on the lake, and Joanne bought that property right after she got married- she insisted that her father had it mixed up, and that it was for her." He switched lanes, forearms tightening. Helga felt a ding in her pocket- probably Cass, but she sat and listened to Arnold's story. "Granted, it's old as heck, probably barely functional, and I have no idea where we would have kept the boat- but we would have made space. It was still hers. We attempted a heist in middle school- right before I left, but the snow beat us out."

"…why in the hell did ya' great grandad buy your city-dwellin' grandma a boat?"

Arnold laughed. "Because she asked for it as a joke in the flood of 1972- but nothing is ever _really_ a joke with Grandma."

* * *

Arnold was amazed at how at ease the car ride was. Helga and Gerald were bantering back and forth as if they had never stopped- as if everything going on was a regular weekend occurence. He didn't know how a two hour car ride was going to go for them, but he was surprised at how well it was going.

He was surprised they agreed to in the first place.

But, adventurers once remained adventurers at heart, Arnold found.

He had turned on the truck's radio, soft RnB offering a background to chatter about the superior superhero, Captain America or Iron Man. Arnold had very little clue what they were talking about, but he was content to listen, driving through the winding country roads, hair blown back ever so slightly by the open sun roof. He let his eyes drift up to the stars, where they were far more abundant and easy to see than in the city.

"Okay, but Tony doesn't have powers, he just has money-"

"HOW DO YOU NOT GET THAT THAT'S MORE IMPRESSIVE!" Helga got overtly passionate over superficial things very often. Arnold tried to not find it endearing. "ANY IDIOT CAN GET FROZEN- NOT EVERY IDIOTS A MILLIONAIRE-"

Arnold thought, as they drove by a particularly beautiful willow tree, illuminated only by headlights, that he could get used to this.

* * *

"Oh Jesus _Christ_ -" they were pulling down a long country road when they stumbled upon cars parked into the grass beside it. Gerald could hear music thumping from his seat next to Helga.

"You're kidding me." Helga deadpanned, leaning up and over to look out the window by Arnold's shoulder. The house they were pulling up to was lit up- in more ways than one. Even from the distance they were at- which was quite the distance, they could see people on the expansive patio and by the lake. There was an empty spot in the line of cars- Arnold made a harsh turn and pulled into it. Gerald smacked his arm on the bar by the window harshly, Helga's hair, pulled up high into a ponytail on her head, hit him in the face.

"What in God's name are you doing-"

"We need a new plan." Arnold's hands were looking unnaturally tight on the wheel. His jaw was tense. Gerald knew those were tell tale signs not to ask someone what's up, so he didn't.

Apparently Helga didn't know that.

That or she just didn't give a fuck.

"I'm sorry, but who the hell is in there?" She shifted forward, Gerald only realized she was leaning on him then. "What's going on?'

"I can only imagine it's Aunt Jo's shitty grandkids. I guess they're kind of my cousins, I don't know. I've met them like twice." Arnold grumbled, checking the time on his watch. Gerald blinked- it was the first time he heard Arnold curse at all. Ever. In his entire life. "Nothing says party like ditching a funeral."

"So," Gerald took it upon himself to break the silence, "new plan?"

Helga was leaning forward, gazing out the windshield at the sweep of people on the landscape. "I think I already have one."

* * *

The plan was fairly simple, and pretty fool-proof, in Arnold's opinion. The lake was visible from their spot on the road, a tiny structure by it. Arnold could only guess the small row boat must have been in there- where else would they keep it? Helga was just going to sweep in, loudly challenge people to a drinking game, and hopefully convince the crowd inside. Gerald and Arnold would make their move for the shed, get the boat, and get back to the truck, and text Helga when the coast was clear.

Arnold couldn't hear from the distance what Helga was shouting- but it was effective, the groups of teenagers headed inside. Gerald and Arnold waited a few moments, before running to the shed from the truck. Arnold already felt home-free, and much more at ease than he thought he would.

That was, until they got to the shed and it featured a large padlock on the front.

"…fuck." Gerald swore, grabbing at it with his hand like that would magically make it come undone.

"Plan B?" Arnold offered to him with a shrug and a smile.

arnold 12:51 am

We have a problem.

helga 12:51 am

?

arnold 12:51 am

The shed is locked.

helga 12:52 am

must i do everything myself?

Arnold couldn't help but grin at his phone.

arnold 12:53 am

We'd be lost without you.

helga 12:54 am

do not move from that shed. i have an idea. i'll knock twice to get your attention. when i knock three times, make your move.

arnold 12:55 am

Do I even want to know what this plan is?

He never got a text back, but in short- no.

No he didn't.

* * *

"Where are we going, baby-" Gerald's biggest pet peeve in life might very well have been audible kissing. It just sounded gross. It sounded grosser kneeling in dress pants behind a shed in wet grass. It probably sounded grossest when you knew Helga G. Pataki was an active participant.

"We could be a lot more _comfortable_ \- oh my… _fuck_ ," Gerald did not, nor did he ever, want to know just _what_ Helga was doing to that poor boy. " _Inside_."

"I just- mmpf," It seemed like she was having a rough time getting words out. He couldn't exactly blame the guy…time had been good to Pataki. "I have a thing you know-" someone's back had thumped into the shed. Gerald had no idea who's, though. "With tight spaces-" She sounded like a straight vixen. She sounded… _experienced_ , to say the least. "Dark, tight," She took a breath, or did something, at any rate, " _hot_."

Gerald realized that he truly did have no idea exactly what Helga got up to in high school.

They weren't talking for a long moment then, just gross, slick noises passing the time. Gerald prayed to God that he and Mari never sounded like that. He had at least never noticed it. There was suddenly a loud thump, right on the wood, directly by his ear, making him jump up. He turned around, startled, to see Arnold kneeling behind him, as he had always been, with a sheepish grin on his face.

"What the fuc-" The guy started to say as Helga squealed.

"Oh my god," She was a damn good actress, "are there, like, wolves out here?"

Gerald looked at Arnold, dim light of the party barely illuminating them. .

"…still?" Gerald whispered incredulously, referring to Arnold's loss of patience for Helga kissing this strange boy.

"No-" Arnold whispered back, looking defensive. "I mean…" A smile spread over his face while he looked at his feet. He shrugged, letting his full smile land on Gerald. Gerald shook his head and 'tsk-ed' at him, impossibly quiet.

"Of all the shit we do not have time for- that's gotta be number one."

Gerald heard the sound of Helga shoving the guy. "Open the shed already." Her voice toed the line between impatience for sexy reasons, and impatience for getting bored reasons. Gerald didn't know exactly what they were supposed to do- just wait for Helga to send the boy running? What exactly was her plan from here on out? Get Arnold to murder the poor guy? Was that really Pataki's plan? Was he in the middle of some kind of weird love tryst… _again_? Because they didn't seem far off from it.

The shed only had three windows- two large ones in front, one smaller one in the back on the right side, directly above Gerald's head. He felt Arnold's hand on his back, gaining on the window to look inside. Gerald grabbed him, and shoved him back down, hand gripping his shoulder..

"Don't be stupid, man. We ain't goin' nowhere until I hear that knock." Gerald whispered fiercely.

Gerald wished he had an under shirt on- it was unseasonably warm for October. Arnold had pushed up his sleeves up past his elbows. Gerald just rolled his up.

They were both good looking guys- Gerald felt comfortable and confident saying that. They would probably have no issue doing what Helga had done- slipping into the party. Not that Gerald needed alcohol, but he could really have gone for a cold beer at that moment. He was wiping his brow, listening to people flooding back outside after Helga's shenanigans. Voices picked up volume, so they leaned in closer to hear Helga's knock. when he heard the two knock sound that Helga had demonstrated in the car- the one that told them to pay attention.

Arnold's head had jumped up too, like they were dogs with ears perked up. They leaned in closer to the shed- pressing their ears against it. They could barely hear voices on the other side of the shed- but between the music and the chatter of the party making it's way outside, hearing distinctive words was next to impossible.

The next knock never came- because someone started shrieking.

"ADAM!" The voice screeched, Gerald wanted to rub at his ears. "WHO THE FUCK IS THAT?"

"Holy shit-"

"She didn't." He and Arnold spoke in unison before glancing at each other. They both slapped hands over their mouths to keep in the laughter.

"Adam?" Helga's voice sounded surprised and tender- which was extra hilarious because Gerald knew damn well she had no fucking clue what that guy's name was five minutes ago. "Who is she?"

"ME?!" There was the sound of a scuffle "WHAT DO YOU MEAN, WHO AM I? WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?!"

"I'm Rhonda," Helga sounded so pleasant. "This is all so _embarrassing_ ," she sounded ruffled, but overall pleased. Gerald was trying really hard not to lose it.

"I'm Adam's girlfriend," She _giggled_ , "are you his sister?" Gerald couldn't help it- he guwaffed out loud. Of course, Helga had to be extra and not even use her own name. Then to call the girl his sister? Gerald just prayed this didn't end in a trip in an ambulance.

"Wait a minute-" The guy sounded queasy. "I didn't-"

There it was- the undeniable sound of skin smacking skin, undoubtedly the banshee smacking the shit out of Adam- who totally deserved it, in Gerald's honest opinion. Gerald hoped the guy wouldn't puke.

"Wait a minute-" Helga's voice this time was raising in pitch, "are you saying that he-"

"Oh, he totally-"

"So you're his other-"

"FOR SIX MONTHS!"

"IT'S BEEN FIVE!"

"What kind of LOW-LIFE, INEXCUSABLE-" The ladies had taken to shouting at him together. Gerald heard the noise moving to his left- they were backing Adam away from the shed, towards the lake was Gerald's best bet. He looked at Arnold, wondering if that was their cue to make their move. Arnold looked shocked, and he shrugged, he wasn't sure if Helga thought that was good enough or not. Undoubtedly she and whoever the other chick was had the party's attention, but they didn't know how long that would last. Gerald and Arnold were trying to communicate silently, gesturing wildly at each other. The wet grass had officially sunk through Gerald's dress pants, making his knees wet and stick and unpleasant. He just wanted to get the boat and get out of there, although he could admit, privately and to himself, that he was having _fun_.

"Adam, I never want to see your face AGAIN!" Helga screamed.

They heard a splash.

Gerald felt his heart drop.

Arnold's eyes went wide.

And, thank God, the party started an uproar of yelling and noise, because Gerald couldn't _not_ laugh.

Arnold followed suit.

The entire thing was just _so_ fucking ridiculous.

They heard someone's feet running back towards the shed. Gerald jumped up, panicked, ready to join the pandemonium of the party as a disguise if need be. But as their feet were passing, they heard it.

Helga's three-toned knock, that told them to take action.

He looked around the corner, and saw the girl booking it- pretending to be in emotional tears, towards the car. He looked towards the other direction- the party was in chaos- someone had tried to reel in Adam from the lake with a blow up swan pool toy, and it had popped, and in the process- there were two more teenagers in the lake.

The boat was propped up against the interior of the shed, and, all in all, not that heavy. They carried it over their shoulders as they ran after Helga, back to the truck.

Gerald could _not_ stop laughing.

* * *

When they got to the truck Helga was casually texting someone as if she hadn't just intentionally ruined someone's six month long relationship. Her hair was mussed, she had her shirt untucked, and the lipstick she had put on was seriously smudged. He sat next to her while Arnold closed the hatch of the truck.

"What?" She asked, feeling his gaze on her. He shook his head and chuckled.

"Nothing."

Arnold had opened the door, hopping in, and shut it with a thud. He gave Helga a frankly hilarious look.

"WHAT?" She demanded more defensively.

"THAT was the plan?" Arnold looked a little more pissed than Gerald thought he was. Gerald always forgot Arnold had more of a moral compass than Gerald did.

"We have a boat, don't we?" Helga moved the rear view mirror so she could see her face, unsmudging the lipstick around her lips. "And he had it coming- so I don't want to hear it."

"How," Arnold started the car, gaze flicking annoyedly over at the mirror which he couldn't look out of. He settled for leaning over her obviously, blocking her own view of the mirror, to check his blind spot. "Could you have possibly known that?

"He was getting nudes from a number saved as Domino's Pizza when I found him sans girlfriend in the first place-" Helga snapped back, ruffling her hair back anxiously.

Gerald did not miss the bickering- that he knew for sure of.

"Now either I've been ordering the wrong thing- or he's an ass-hat who may not have been playing her with me, but playing her with somebody." She licked her lips, staring Arnold down furiously. "So cut the Savior-to-the-People shit and drive, Football-Head."

If anyone could deliver a well-timed nickname, it was definitely Helga. Arnold said nothing, backed out of the parallel parking job, and they were off again.

* * *

 _a/n ;) lol this is silly but its fun & all in the name of my beloved pookie. adore that woman._

 _love u all u ar my people, ttyl._

 _xx. k._


	10. Chapter 10

This was arguably the most awkward thing to ever happen to him. Never once had climbing Helga's fire escape led to staring blankly through the window to a dark room. She only had like, three friends and then a shit ton of acquaintances… And it was eleven p..m.? He just couldn't sleep and didn't want to eat greasy pancakes alone. She hadn't answered any texts. Where the hell was Helga?

Sid was weighing his options, balanced on the rickety metal, leaning in to look through the window at the room Helga definitely wasn't occupying. It was a very small room- very easy to see her. She definitely wasn't hanging out somewhere else in her house- her dad was home. He reached down to his phone to text Cass.

sid 11:12 pm

hey… super weird ? but have u herd from tic tac tonite

CASSerole 11:12 pm

…

not in a few hours ?

…

wtf sid did you lose helga?

sid 11:13 pm

i didnt know i was her guard dog

CASSerole 11:14 pm

yes you did otherwise you wouldn't know she's missing.

text lila and see if she's with her.

Sid squinted at his phone in disbelief

sid 11:15 pm

ok two things n. 1 why the fuck would helga be with lila

n. 2 why do you think i have lila's phone number.

Cass's next text had no words- it was just a phone number.

CASSerole 11:15 pm

there you go!

sid 11:16 pm

…how do u have lila's phone number?

CASSerole 11:16 pm

;) ;) ;)

sid 11:17 pm

ok first off: ew. second off: why the fuck u lyyiiinn

CASSerole 11:17 pm

we had history together in junior year.

best forty five minutes of every day.

Sid rolled his eyes at her, before plugging Lila's number into a new message. He hesitated, wondering exactly what to say, or how to type. She probably typed with correct spelling and grammar. Sid didn't know. Was it too formal?

sid 11:19 pm

Hey Lila! This is Sid Jones from high school. I was wondering if you had heard or seen from Helga tonight. Thanks, have a good night!

It sounded awkward, but it would have to do.

* * *

When Helga got into the car that night- and had a few minutes to check her phone, she had 12 missed texts from Sid, four from Cass, and one from… Lila?

She had only replied to Cass when Arnold and Gerald returned and Arnold started being annoying- so she clicked on Sid's texts next.

They got proceedingly…frankly, drunker, and harder to understand and she wasn't sure what any of it had to do with her, and no one was saying anything in the car because Arnold was annoying, so she just looked up and said.

"I'm gonna call Sid."

"Aw-" Gerald looked up from his own phone. "Sounds great, I miss that kid. Good guy."

Helga squinted at him, but then she remembered- Sid played football. She didn't really know why he did- she thought it was really just because he missed Stinky- but he did.

She didn't wait for Arnold to say anything before dialing. It rang a few times before someone picked up

Her ear was assaulted by such a caucus of noise that it actually felt like it hit her, and she jerked into Arnold's arm, who looked up at her, alarmed.

She gingerly placed her phone back on to her ear- listening to someone, who really didn't sound like Sid, yell "HELLO…. HI, HELLO-" over pounding music.

* * *

Sid and Helga was not a pair that Arnold would have called. Not even romantically…just a pair of…well.

He looked over at her face- scrunched up in pain a little from the noise- he himself could hear a bit of the conversation.

"YES-" She spoke loudly. "Hi- HELLO, YE- SID. YES, SID- SID. I CAN HEAR YOU YES. WHO ARE YOU, SID- NO. YES, WHO ARE YOU WITH?"  
She paused for a moment, eyebrows knitting together as she listening intently. Arnold still didn't know how he felt about the space in between them- he almost missed her old look.

"Wait, really?" She paused again, listening "wait, Sid- Where- WHERE ARE YOU?" It was obviously very hard for her to hear.

"WHY THE FUCK-" She stopped.

"Do you two need help?" She asked frankly. "No- Sid, listen, Sid I heard that you don't want to go home- Sid, do you have a plan? Sid- do you have the cash for a cab? What do you mean? SID…SID LISTEN, SID- DO YOU HAVE YOUR WALLET."

Gerald was shoving down a laugh on her other side, Arnold could tell. He himself was growing a little concerned for Sid.

"Okay, Sid- SID. You know what- just put her on the phone. PUT HER ON THE - oh, hello- how are you?"

She winced. Arnold wondered who she was talking to.

"Do you have any sober friends- any sober, no, sober-" She sounded out. "Okay- stay there, can you hear me? Okay. Stay there. I will…figure something out. No, I know you don't want to leave- but you will eventually. Stick together, do not leave with anyone, and I'll figure it out."

She scrunched her nose up. "Okay…I…love you too? Okay, yes, I know, okay, bye."

She hung up her phone- it was a flip phone. Arnold didn't see a lot of them anymore. She sighed, and stared in between them.

"With any luck, Sid and Lila won't have consummated by the time I get there."

Arnold choked, and Gerald bust out into laughter.

"Sid and Lila? How did that happen?" Gerald basically giggled- as much as a man his size can.

"I don't know," She shoved her face into her hands, "but they're very, _very_ drunk."

"Where are they?" Arnold asked, looking back to the quiet road as he merged on to the highway. They hadn't seen another car since they started driving.

He heard the soft thud of Helga letting her head fall back against the seat.

"You do not want to know." She muttered. Gerald laughed again.

Arnold looked, confused, over at her. "Of course I do?" He stared at her for a moment, before looking back to the road. He switched to the fast lane. "How am I going to pick them up if you won't tell me where they are?"

She jumped up- as well as she could seated in a moving truck. "You don't have to do that. I can handle it."

"Do you even have a car?" Gerald but into the conversation.

"No," Helga started, but she was interrupted by Arnold.

"So- I don't know how you were going to pick them up, but we can, it's fine. Just tell me the address, or put it into that thing." He didn't look back from the road, just tilted his head down towards his phone, which was on top of the console.

Helga didn't say anything for a few moments, and then spoke quite quickly, and quite…scarily.

"Look. I don't know where you two get off playing white knight all of a sudden, because you've," she jabbed Arnold in the knee, "been gone for six years and you've," she poked Gerald, "chosen to not give a shit."

An odd silence settled over the car- the first one of the night since they left the funeral.

"And clearly-" Helga pushed a hand through her hair nervously, "I've proven myself absolutely capable of not only taking care of myself, but taking care of my _friends_. So, if you two would kindly knock whatever attitude you two wanna call this the fuck off, that would be appreciated. Thanks." She crossed her arms, settling back into her seat in between them.

Arnold had…no idea how to respond to that. None.

He supposed she was right, in a way. He also just wished she weren't so stubborn, and would just accept help.

"Helga-" Gerald spoke up, sitting up himself. He had tucked his phone back into his pocket. "Ain't nobody here doubtin' that you _can_ handle this yourself- we know you can. We've seen you handle more." He rubbed a hand at his mouth, probably looking for the words to finish whatever he was going to say. "I know you're fully capable of forcing Arnold to drop you at 23rd and Market, waiting twenty minutes for the night bus, letting it take you all over the damn town until you actually get to where you need to, draggin' out Lila and Sid's dumbasses, and finding Lila's keys she probably lost. I know that- Arnold knows that. I just also know that that's at least a two hour job for you, and it'd take us like…ten minutes, tops. So stop bein' stubborn as all hell, and tell the man the address."

She stared straight out the window for a few moments, refusing to look at Gerald's face. She then sat up and begrudgingly punched in the address to Arnold's phone, setting it in her lap.

"Fine. But you two can't judge me, and you can't say I didn't warn you."

"Where exactly are we going, then?" Arnold asked, taking note of the exit they were passing. They still had a while to go before they would get to Hillwood- but they were making excellent time on completely empty roads.

"My ex-boyfriend's house."

* * *

Sid rode his bike a few blocks away from Helga's house before getting a response from Lila. He guessed he was just going to high tail it back to his dorm. He wasn't getting pancakes at midnight by himself levels of sad yet.

However- Lila apparently didn't know the ultimate rules of being a teenager, because she called him instead of texting him back, like a normal person.

"Hello?" He answered tentatively, slowing his bike to a stop.

"Sid, hi!" She answered enthusiastically, "Is everything okay? Have you found Helga?" He could hear chatter behind her- he didn't know why he was surprised. Lila had always been popular, it shouldn't be shocking she was at a party on Saturday night.

"Uh…no, not yet." He answered. He didn't want to admit he had kind of just quit and started walking home. But that's what he had done.

"Oh, _gosh_ -" She enthused. "Has anyone seen my keys?" Sid heard her shout, not to him, but directed away from the phone.

"Lila- you don't have to-"

"Where are you, Sid?" She asked quickly. "Why did I take my shoes off…" She wondered aloud.

"Uh, I'm right outside the Chipotle on Main, actually."

"Why are you… nevermind, I'm not far, be there soon, don't move, bye! They were little black pu-" She had begun her next sentence before she hung up her phone. Sid wondered where she was that it was okay for her to ditch her shoes. He wondered why he contacted her in the first place.

He wondered all of this as he sat down on the ground next to his bike, while also wondering why he was letting her come pick him up.

Aside for the fact that, really- he had nothing better to do.

* * *

Lila wasn't far- actually, and she really wanted that one random Junior with a bad hair cut to stop hitting on her- so it was perfect timing really. Her friend whom invited her to the party- which was in some guys apartment, she wasn't sure if she met him at all, had volunteered to go with her. Which was sweet, actually, considering Lila met her on her floor that evening and really and truly couldn't remember her name at the moment. Lila declined her offer graciously- mostly so she didn't have to introduce her to Sid without knowing her name, it'd be terribly messy.

Lila left in a hurry, finding her shoes in the bathroom because she and this other girl she had met were talking about how badly their feet hurt and ditched their shoes.

Sid was sitting on a curb, wearing black sweatpants that came only past his knee, Lila thought they were called joggers? And he was also wearing a navy blue long sleeve tshirt.

She pulled over and rolled down her window. "Hello!" She called, beaming at him, pulling over.

No one really lived on Main, so no one really drove on it past ten p.m. A car was coming towards them, on the other side of the road. Unseasonably warm air fled into Lila's car through the open window, it was a strange autumn they were having.

He jumped up. "Hey, Lila!" He seemed nervous- but he did often.

"Well, get in!" She called for him, waving her hand towards him. He obeyed, shutting the door behind him. "Do you have any leads? Any places she would hang out? Cass isn't home, is she?"

"No. Helga doesn't really hang out places alone, normally I'm with her or something," He shook his head. "So I can't think of…actually, scratch that, it's unlikely, but I have an idea."

* * *

Arnold pulled up to a dingy townhouse- with cars lining the street.

"You know," Gerald started to say, "It's weird, because in action movies you never really think of parking as a difficulty, but damn if it ain't a pain in our ass."

"We're not in an action movie, Gerald." Arnold replied, pulling up the street, looking thoughtfully for a parking space.

"If you go up a block and make a right there's a lot," Helga added.

"We come pretty damn close!"

"Alright, look." Helga said as Arnold turned the corner, ignoring Gerald. She checked the clock on her phone, it was well past two am at that point. "I do not want to be in there, I do not want to talk to anyone in there, nor do I want to be seen. I will get us in, then wait by the door, you two will need to find our idiots so we can get the fuck out of there."

Gerald and Arnold looked at each other- obviously wanting to ask about the history there, but decided against it as Arnold pulled into the lot.

"Wait, did you say you'll get us _in_?" Arnold parked the car swiftly as Gerald talked. They still had to get Grandma out of the funeral home and get to the lake. "I'm sorry, but _who_ exactly is your ex-boyfriend?"

Helga gave him a flat look. "Not someone I want to run into, and neither do you, so let's _go_."

* * *

Sid didn't exactly know why Helga would go back to Jake. He really didn't have a reason, but if there was anywhere in Hillwood she might be, it would be there. They rode there in silence, it was early for him to be doing anything wild, so if she was there, hopefully they could get in, get her, and get out. There was still street parking available. Sid didn't know what to say to Lila, to let him do the talking, or to be safe, or wahtever. Normally the girls he hung out with could easily beat the shit out of him, so he wasn't used to this whole…situation. She confidently parked and got out her purse.

He said to her, "It's that house in the middle." Then he didn't know what to say. He wanted to pull her closer, or do something of that protective nature- but he didn't because he didn't know how and he could punch himself in the face for it.

He had only been there once or twice- he hated Helga's Jake phase. He despised it. It ended over a year ago, but he remembered it well, because he hated it so much. He knocked on the door, letting himself stand in front of Lila a bit- whom he should have told to wait in the car, but he didn't, so they were standing there.

A man who wasn't Jake answered the door. He was taller than Sid, but not by much, and wearing a black button down that was untucked. Sid wasn't that much of a judg-y person, but he kind of seemed like the man that your parents didn't want you to bring home to them.

"Yea?" He said impatiently. Sid realized then how odd they must look- Sid in all but PJs, Lila in sort-of club wear. Who knows, Jake could have moved, and they were just standing in front of this man's house in odd attire.

There were people clustered up behind him with red solo cups.

"We're, uh," He tried to stand up straighter. "We're looking for Helga Pataki. Is she here?"

The guy let mirth spread across his face. "Helga Pataki? Shit. I haven't seen her, but I don't know. Has anyone seen Jake?" He yelled back into the crowd.

"He's in his room!" A girl called back.

"Uh…if he's in his room with her, or anyone else, I wouldn't just barge in and ask. But you can grab a beer and wait if you want." The guy held the door open, and before Sid could respond, Lila was walking into the house confidently. She was wearing a navy blue dress with a full skirt and plunging neckline and Sid should have taken the look that random man gave her as a sign right away to grab her and get out of there but once again…

He didn't do that.

* * *

Helga took a few moments when they stepped out of the truck to fix her hair. Gerald and Arnold were patient. She wished she knew she was going to be out this much- she would have curled it, instead of straightening it. Her hair was just falling straight against her scalp unnattractively.

"Weird question, but do either of you have a com-" Gerald held one out before she finished her sentence.

Arnold gave him a questioning look.

He shrugged, "Gotta look good, man."

Helga rolled her eyes, but used it to tease her hair so it at least wasn't flat against her head- setting it into a deep, voluminous side part. She mushed it down so it was less scene-kid and more Ariel from the little mermaid.

"Okay, follow me." She said, handing Gerald back the comb. They walked down the street in silence. Helga's feet hurt. Heels were also a mistake

She knocked oddly, not a twice or a few rhythmic taps, but once, a loud thud on the door.

AJ and Stef opened the door, not that the boys behind her knew them- but Helga certainly did.

"Helga PatAKI!?" Steph enthused- drunken slur obvious. "NO SHIT!" She shouted at her.

"Hi, I'm coming in now, would you move, please?" She said with a polite venom.

"Jake's gonna be pumped." Steph gleamed, leaning heavily on AJ, who grinned.

"Jake's not gonna know. I'm coming in and I'm coming out."

"Is there beef?" AJ leaned down- fantastically awful breath in her face. She wrinkled her nose ever so slightly, and took a step backwards- coincidentally, into Arnold, who put a protective hand on her arm.

"There won't be- Steph, how did the thing with Mike go?" She asked carefully, walking forward to push them back into the house. She gave Gerald a look behind her, a signal to get himself and Arnold moving- to find Lila and Sid and get out.

Gerald took it well, pushing Arnold past Helga, while Steph rambled into about what a douche-face Mike is, which Helga could have told her, but it was what it was.

* * *

The place was packed and Gerald was sweating before they had been inside for two minutes. There were people smoking in a bedroom- a game of poker on the floor, and alcohol to be had nearly everywhere. Some girl was crying in a corner- Gerald was just happy it wasn't Lila.

Although maybe he would be if it was- so they could get them the heck home. He squint through the dark- and he saw her, red hair up off her neck. He turned around to enthuse that to Arnold- and discovered he was gone. Son of a bitch, what did he have to make them do? Hold hands?

He tried not to elbow anyone, and tried not to look threatening. He didn't want to start shit- but this was a white neighborhood, and he was… not white, and he probably stuck out as it was.

"Lila," He put a hand on her shoulder, standing behind the couch, "Lila, girl."

She looked up. "GERAAAALD!" She all but screamed excitedly. "Guys, this is my friend Gerald-" she enthused to the group of people sitting on the couch. "Gerald these are my…." She hesitated, because she obviously didn't know their names. "Friends!"

"Hey, y'all," They weren't exactly an attractive group of people- all years older than them, all looking past their prime. Gerald didn't want to call them losers, but… He tried to keep it friendly, regardless, "Lila, I'm here to take you home."

She looked like he had told her that he was there to kill her dog and then possibly eat it.

"No!" She protested. "We're having so- so much, fun!"

"Lila-" He pleaded, looking down at her, "We really need to get out of-" He looked down, and realized where she was seated. I.E. promptly on a gentleman's lap, whom was now moving her and standing up in a manner he probably considered intimidating.

"Hey," He scolded Gerald, faint 5 o' clock shadow evident in a way that definitely wasn't intentional or sexy. "If the lady says she ain't goin'-" He hiccuped, and stood to his full height. "She ain't goin' _nowhere_."

It took all of Gerald's willpower not to laugh. The guy was maybe…just maybe, 5' 6". It looked like he couldn't spell gym- let alone set foot in one. It wasn't that Gerald didn't want to get anyone here riled up- because he really didn't- but the guy in a fedora threatening _him_ , all six feet and two inches of Gerald- was ever so slightly ridiculous.

"ARNOLD!" Lila squealed again, and Gerald did a double take behind him, and sure enough- there was Boy Wonder himself.

"Lila!" He grinned down at her. "Where's Sid?" His hair was already mussed- and his face was flushed. How long had they been in there?

She looked around, aghast all of a sudden, "I dunno…" She whispered. "Have you seen Helga?" She looked up with angst.

Arnold laughed. "Yeah, we just need Sid."

"Okay." She walked around the couch. Gerald's mouth dropped open. He didn't know why everyone took Arnold's word as Law, even after all that time- but it was still mildly infuriating. "We'll look together!" She grabbed both of their hands, giggling. "Bye everyone-"

The fedora man who threatened Gerald was gone. The rest had stopped paying attention to them. Lila dragged them by their hands forward, past the kitchen, and down the hall.

* * *

"Let's check up stairs!" A drunk Lila enthused.

"Okay, we'll go check," Arnold assured her, grabbing Gerald so they made a small triangle. "You know who really misses you, though? Helga. You should go hang out with her!" He invited enthusiastically. He ignore Gerald's Helga's-Gonna-Kill-You look, because he knew she would and he deserved it. He just didn't want Drunk Lila in Heels to have to get up the stairs- let alone back down them.

"Aw!" She squealed, "oh my gosh- I miss her too! Where is she?"

Gerald dropped Lila's hand, and Arnold pulled her forward. "Right there!" She pointed out Helga in the foreway- Lila giggled and waved. "Go give her a hug, and stay with her, and we'll be back in a few!"

Helga was giving him a murderous look as Lila hung off of her- but Arnold had other things to worry about in that exact moment.

Upstairs there were bedrooms…or closed doors rather. Gerald and Arnold looked in between each other nervously. Closed doors at a party were dangerous territory, and whatever you found inside you deserved to find- you opened it.

There were two nearly opposite each other, and they each grabbed a door handle, looked back at each other, and nervously opened one each.

Gerald immediately slammed his shut.

"Not Sid!" He whispered across the hall to Arnold.

Arnold just stared in his- head tilted to the side. Gerald came up to stand behind him, chin nearly on his shoulder.

"I'm not sure. Might be Sid?"

There was a couple on the bed sharing a joint- not noticing their door had been opened.

"His hair is darker than that."

"Is it?"

"I'm not sure…" Gerald drifted off.

Arnold just frowned, not sure whether or not to interrupt their moment. The boy finally noticed and leaned up- and it certainly wasn't Sid, so Arnold just shut the door quickly and quietly.

There were only two more doors in the hall.

"Let's pray he's in one of them." Gerald commented quietly. "Or we have to go back downstairs."

Arnold shuddered. "I got hit on _twice_ , we were here for like five minutes!"

Gerald gave him an annoyed look. "And all I got was some guy tryna' fight me, man, I fuckin' hate you."

Arnold snorted, but walked down the hall, and opened another door hesitantly, peeking through quietly.

And…at least he found Sid.

Sid, not wearing a shirt, but Sid. Sid, making out with some girl, but Sid.

"Sid-" Gerald interrupted, walking in front of Arnold. Arnold smacked his palm on his face. He was hoping to do it with slightly more grace than that. "Buddy! We gotta go man- where's your shirt, bud?"

"Gerald?!" Sid sat up frantically. He looked like his head was spinning- he shook it. "Holy shit," he said to himself, "I am so drunk."

"No- no," Gerald intervened, putting his hand on his shoulder. "You ain't that drunk, bud- it is me." He pat his shoulder . "Where is your shirt?"

"Since when are we friends?" Sid said in a way that wasn't bitter at all- just an honest question. Arnold watched Gerald's face fall a little bit- looking sad.

"We've always been friends, man." Gerald said softly.

Arnold took it upon himself to look around the room for the shirt- ignoring the girl, whom he wasn't entirely sure was wearing a shirt either- and then looking down the hall. He didn't see it in the direction where they had come from- and when he turned to look the other way, there was a guy standing there, looking out the other door. Arnold offered him a half hearted smile.

"No, Sid- bud, Sid- that's an arm hole. You can't…okay, I mean- I guess" He heard Gerald attempt to get Sid dressed behind him. "Have you puked yet? We have a rental," Gerald questioned nervously- Arnold laughed. "Hey, Arnold, wanna stop laughin' and help a brotha' out?!"

Arnold was going to stop his stare down with the guy down the hall, but the guy suddenly narrowed his gaze at him.

"You got Helga's kid in there?" He asked, walking out from behind his door, leaning against the wall. Arnold wondered if the theme of the party was shirtlessness, because he wasn't wearing one either.

"Uh-" Arnold looked back for a moment, Sid was almost standing, "Yeah."

"You Helga's Arnold?"

He blinked. He didn't know the answer to that.

"Uh, I guess." He shrugged. The guy nodded at him.

"Jake?" A girl leaned out of the door that guy had walked out of- looking at him, and then at Arnold. She had pretty hair, he noticed.

"She ain't here, is she?" Arnold could only assume he was looking at the Jake. He was tall. His hair was mussed up- and his pants were tight. He had a cigarette in one hand.

"Nah-" Arnold lied quietly. "No, she isn't. Sorry, man." He tried to sound as cool as possible- and he thought it worked.

Jake nodded at him. "Didn't think she'd come. Gave it a shot anyway."

Gerald appeared at the door, Sid leaning on him, shooting Arnold more daggers with his eyes than Helga had at the door, and he didn't think that was possible.

He was took busy looking at Gerald he didn't look up at Jake, who said "later" and Arnold heard his door close.

"I don't know what that was," Gerald said honestly, "but let's get _the fuck_ out of here."

* * *

They took one look at the truck before realizing that they did not have seats for five, and Gerald was putting Sid and Lila up front before there was any discussion. He and Pataki could slum it out in the back, maybe she'd whine about it, but drunk people in the back of a moving vehicle was a recipe for a disaster.

Arnold looked exhausted as Gerald shut the door, and he realized how deep the bags were under his friend's eyes. Gerald had forgotten he had attended a funeral someone very close to him not a few hours before.

"Arnold, man, what time were you up this morning?" Gerald asked, leaning on the door.

"Six or so." Arnold answered honestly with a yawn.

Gerald held out his hand, "gimme the keys. I'm drivin'." Arnold obeyed. "What were we thinkin' a sleep deprived driver in the front, drunk teens in the back. Sounds like an episode of SVU just _waitin_ ' to happen." He mumbled as he walked around to the side. He heard Arnold speak just as he was opening his door.

"Is the back okay with you?" He asked Helga.

"Trust me- I've ridden in worse."

Gerald shut the door, and prayed that Helga and Arnold did not hook up in the back of a moving vehicle- it had been a long enough night already.

Lila and Sid were playing patty-cake.

He said another prayer that they made it to the dorms with zero vomit.

* * *

It was warm out that night- but it was cold out in the moving truck, sitting on the opposite side of the boat of Arnold.

Helga looked up to watch him watch the city go by. The dorms weren't that bad of a drive away, so she thought she'd use it for some good ol' fashion starin'.

She thought she had really learned that no matter how inherently good someone is- they'll never be exactly what you've made them up to be in your heart. Because, at the end of the day, you have to live for yourself, not for someone else.

She thought about how at some point in time, she had realized she really did want a prince charming who would make her life easier and defeat the insecurity and the family issues.

She also realized she didn't need one.

She had no idea when she did that, but she undoubtedly had. Maybe it had been the day she had walked firmly away from Jack, and out of his life. Or the day Cass had committed to college. She didn't really know when she knew- she just knew she did.

And maybe that was the difference in the air between her and Arnold. Not that she had ever really expected him to come home and them to just jump into a relationship. But the space between them felt different than it ever had felt.

She did not need him, and probably never would.

She had proven that to the both of them, by doing it for six years.

And that- that little change that quite literally littered the air that surrounded them, never let her forget it. It was cool, and crisp- like the air was supposed to be, but it wasn't, despite it being _October_. Every breath she had took reminded her that she didn't _need_ anyone who was occupying that truck. And it made her feel like her feet never touched the ground. It made her feel _clean_. The wind was brushing through her hair- and maybe she was shivering in just her thin black t-shirt, but she also owed no one nothing and she felt fresh in her own body and she was so _proud_ to say that. She may very well be the only thing in her life that was entirely under her control- but she at least had that and no one could take it from her.

Maybe at one point Arnold _did_ make flowers grow in her lungs- but they made it very hard to breathe.

Gerald came to a stop gently. She looked at him, and wondered if she was just sitting in a truck with a different Arnold. He really didn't seem that different.

She wondered if he thought he was sitting in a truck with a different Helga.

"I wrote you some really embarrassing letters." Helga told him quietly, wishing she could sit criss-crossed, she was left to just stretching her long legs out against the back of the truck, leaning up against the wall of it. The city felt so quiet, wind no longer smacking at her face.

"No you didn't," His eyes narrowed at her, smile playfully dancing at his mouth.

"I did." She smiled at him. "I just didn't send them. Poetic injustice, or something like that. I wrote every day for a while."

He took a breath, eyes searching hers, "Helga." He said the way he used to, smiling sadly at her.

The truck started moving, the wind was blowing his hair in his face again.

"There were song lyrics and everythin-"

"What?" He some-what yelled at her, because he couldn't hear her over the wind. She shook her head and shooed her hand for him to forget about it.

He never listened to her. Instead he stepped inside the boat, and then on the other side of the truck, right in between her knees, grabbing the wall of the truck and the top at the same time. He pushed the boat back with his other foot. Helga held up her hands with worry that he might fall, but he didn't. She shook her head at him, what an idiot.

He plopped down next to her.

"Sorry, I couldn't hear you." He explained, still speaking abnormally loudly.

"So you decided to almost die instead of waiting like ten minutes?" She replied, faking her irritation at the stunt.

He shrugged, and then he smiled. "I don't know, it seemed important."

Something in her chest swelled.

His body had no choice in the tight space but to press into hers in someway- but it's not that Helga minded. He was warm. He stretched out his legs next to hers, their legs and hips pressed together. He folded his hands in his lap.

"So… can I read them?"

"No."

"But they're mine?"

"I don't care."

And then he was grinning down at her, dimly lit by the passing street lamps.

Helga knew she didn't need him. That wasn't the question because it was answered and the answer was no. She just was starting to wonder if there was another question at play here.

Did she want him?

She didn't know if she wanted to answer it at all.

She shivered a bit as Gerald made a left, wind hitting her more harshly.

"Are you cold?"

Arnold had forgone his jacket hours ago- it was still in the front with Sid and Lila. She neglected to answer, just turned her face away from him. She felt him moving behind her, wrapping one arm over hers, and then the other, his hands coming to rest on hers. Her body heated up quickly.

She allowed her head to fall back on to his chest, and questioned to herself whether or not she was allowed to move ever so slightly, so that he could settle fully behind her. She didn't answer whether or not she was allowed to to herself, and she just did it, moving in a way that indicated to him to do it.

"Is this what all the normal ex's do?" She asked sarcastically to distract from the intimacy of the situation, "Cuddle in the back of a truck?"

"I still don't remember you dumping me." He joked back cheekily. She sighed, but leaned back against his upper body. "And at any rate, I can't recall us every being _normal_."

His chin then dug into the crown of her head, and she sighed.

She guessed he was only being fair…there really wasn't anything normal about them at all.

All she could think about after then was how much warmer she was… and why she didn't do something about it in the first place.

* * *

 _a/n i forgot to write an end cap. lol whoops._

 _i love helga... like i know everyone loves helga but i just really aggressively love helga & writing in her POV because i like to think that all of her thought processes & ideas about herself and love and those things comes out as some form of poetry. writing in everyone elses povs isnt as fun tbh she's my girl. anyone else feel this way? lol i love her._

 _& yall, thanks for the support. you're my people. 3_

 _k. xx_


	11. Chapter 11

"Have y'all been sittin' like that the whole damn drive?" Gerald blinked at Helga and Arnold. Helga was very nearly nodded off on his arm. Gerald parked at a lot by the dorms, not bothering with Lila and Sid before getting out of the truck.

"Fuck off, Johannsen." She yawned. She stood up slowly, carefully not stepping on Arnold or the boat. "What do you think the odds are that Lila knows where she lives?"

"Fairly high," Gerald scoffed, "she's drunk, Helga, not suddenly blind."

Arnold giggled. Helga kicked him.

"I'll take them, then, you guys take a two minute nap, or something." Helga- standing in that truck bed, let the reality of the last twenty minutes- of straight up laying on Arnold, wash over her. She wanted a few moments without either of the two guys.

She hopped over the side of the truck bed.

"Do you have your student i.d.s?" She grumbled as she opened the front of the truck- where both Lila and Sid were snoring, tangled together. "Great. Just…great."

* * *

"Man-" Helga actually managed to get Sid and Lila to walk like semi-functional human beings, ids in her hand. It was a pretty impressive feat. Gerald watched them stumble into the building. "Can I ask?" Gerald asked Arnold, leaned up against the car on one arm.

Arnold groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. "Gerald, I'm gonna be honest, I have no idea what I'm doing."

"Like…not to pry, man, but like, did you…not move on?"

"I did- I did." He shook his head dismissively, "I just like to mess with her with the whole 'we're still dating' thing. I gave up after two years of letters with no responses." He shrugged. "I dated a few girls- one girl in India really seriously, actually. I miss her, a little bit. It was never gonna work, though."

He paused. Gerald wondered if he was supposed to say something. He never had these kinds of talks.

"Honestly, it got to a point where she really didn't cross my mind unless Lila mentioned her in a letter." Arnold leaned an arm over the truck, looking pensively out across the parking lot. Gerald forgot that Arnold was hardly a normal boy when it came to feelings. Most of his guy friends would have answered that with 'yeah, she's cool.' Not Arnold, never Arnold. "I really don't think I was hung up on her before, but I might just be getting…"

"Re-hung up?" Gerald finished for him, cocking his head to the side with curiosity.

"I mean…have you taken a good look at her?" Arnold asked, looking serious.

Gerald…had and hadn't. He had watched her grown up, which made the change less drastic. And Helga was never really his type. But the long legs and the longer hair and well defined waist in what she was wearing that night- he couldn't exactly blame Arnold.

"She looks beautiful," He shrugged and agreed with him.

"She _is_ beautiful," Arnold corrected. Gerald wanted to roll his eyes but he let sleep-deprived Arnold have his little moment. Arnold seemed to have realized what he just said, and he groaned, shoving his face back in his hands. "I'm so done for."

Gerald looked down at him, and then up to the sky, shaking his head. "You're a bold kid, Arnold, a bold kid."

* * *

Helga was tired and annoyed by the time she reached Lila's dorm room, which was nearer than Sid's, so she said to Sid "Sid- bud, can you get back to your dorm on your own?"

"Psh- _yeah_ ," he said confidently, with a deep slur. "I'm fine," he shrugged, only swaying in place a little. Lila had hung up many polaroids of her friends with string lights on her walls. It took all of Helga not to roll her eyes…how Lila continued to fight to be the most basic girl alive surprised her every day. The dorm room was a dungeon, as they all were, but between that and the Lilly Pulitzer-esque bedspread, it was obvious that it was Lila's. Which Helga was privately thankful for, because if she dumped them in some rando's room- well, that would be a disaster for another night. Lila had already sat down on her bed, kicking off her heels like they were on fire. Which Helga couldn't blame her for- she had already left her own in the back of the truck.

"Can," Lila hiccuped, "can one of you unzip this?" She turned around and moved her hair- sweaty and looking ratty, off her back to show the zipper of her dress.

Sid blushed red, but did as she asked with only a bit of struggle.

"See, fine?" He told Helga- and Helga was tired enough to believe him.

"Then I'm leaving, goodnight, guys!" She turned around and left the dorm before another moment- she just couldn't wait to go to bed. It was almost four in the morning.

* * *

"Guys-" it dawned on Gerald as they pulled up to the funeral home- himself still in the driver's seat. Arnold, bless him, was passed the fuck out in the passenger's seat. Helga sat on Arnold's smartphone, doing God knows what, in the middle. They had driven there in silence, and Gerald was all a dead man walking by that point, just going through the motions. He parallel parked directly in front of the home. "This place is going to be locked up."

"This is also not only a little-" Helga squinted at the fine print of whatever she was reading, "this is _hella_ illegal. Like…really, _really_ fucking illegal."

Arnold snored. Gerald tried to ignore the fond look Helga sent his way. He rubbed a palm on his face.

"Do we have a game plan?"

"I'm bringing in reinforcements." Helga said decidedly, and pressed the phone to her ear.

* * *

When Arnold woke up, crook in his neck, face pressed up against the glass, no one was in the car with him. He panicked, for only a moment, floundering a little in his seat. When he turned to the side, he saw that his friends were within arms reach- and thank whoever, he didn't fall asleep while driving- Gerald was driving.

They were also joined on the sidewalk by his parents. They seemed to be debating something respectfully, Helga's mouth already running quickly, he could tell. There was lots of nodding going on. He opened his car door.

"Hey, sleepy head!" His mom called fondly.

"Good, you're up." His dad said, uncrossing his arms, and then recrossing them. "We're taking the car, anyway. Did you know that that's technically illegal too, because you're all under 25? Like, jeez, American laws are stupid."

"Yeah-" Helga blinked, then yawned, really cutely, actually. She had her arms crossed over her- it was chillier than it was outside of the city. Arnold thought that he should offer her his jacket, but she was talking. "I can't believe that there are laws about what you do when you die. How can that be illegal? Death laws? We're never free of law-"

"Yes well, it was illegal when that guy got stabbed and thrown into the river last May, but someone did it." Gerald spoke over her, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Now, as your resident-" He looked around at the people he was standing with, taking in something, but Arnold didn't know what "guy who has to worry a little more about being arrested than y'all," Arnold understood then, "I know the longer we stand here- the worse it gets, so let's get a move on y'all."  
Arnold's dad tossed Gerald the keys to the car they had driven there in, and already had the truck keys in hand. He trudged to the car slowly, listening in somewhat on Helga and Gerald's conversation, but definitely not fully.

"So you're telling me that we coulda cremated her, and then put her in the boat, and this woulda been legal?"

"I mean- yeah, kind of-"

Arnold sat in the back.

"But as Miles said, that wasn't really her goal. Because all dead, once living organisms have nutrients left to give to the Earth, it's kind of selfish that we, and no other animal, don't…give back what we took."

"And I get that, I do, I'm just sayin' that this all would have been legal if we-"

"Yes, Gerald. Yes."

"Good, I just needed to know exactly how crazy these white people are."

"He's got a plan, Gerald."

"That is such a white person thing to say, I can't even with tha-"

* * *

Helga was chatty when she was tired, she had pulled enough all-nighters to know that. But there was a point in time every time Helga was really, really tired, when she just shut down. When she moved, and knew what people were saying, and what she was saying, but it was like it was a dream and none of it was real. It would stop, it would go away soon enough, and she'd be back to talking quickly and heatedly, but when it happened, it was surreal. Like everything was happening slowly, in a vat of pudding.

Getting to the nursing home to pick up Arnold's grandfather all passed in a blur- it really, truly did. She had a conversation with Gerald the entire way there, and she couldn't tell you for love or money what on earth it was about. She followed the boys down the hall in the home, which smelled terrible, as all nursing homes did.

"Hey!" Grandpa Phil sounded surprised when Arnold opened his door, despite being fully dressed and waiting for them there. "You brought Eleanor! Pookie woulda loved that, Arnold."

"Well, I-"

"I'm glad," Helga interrupted, smiling at the old man. Jesus- they really were getting up there, weren't they? He looked _really_ old, but it was also almost 5 in the morning. "Are you ready to go?"

"Yes, well, there's one thing." He said, shifting around in his seat. "How did you guys get in here?"

"We just walked in," Gerald said plainly, looking behind himself with paranoia. "…why?"

"Because I'm not allowed ta' leave in these hours of the night- but if there ain't no security guards well, then…"

"Oh my god-" Helga groaned, shoving her face in her palm. "Did we really not think any of this through?"

"She never thought _anything_ through!" Arnold's Grandpa interjected. She looked up at his bed in his room. She never, has ever, had the urge to sleep in a nursing home. But damn if she was well fighting it. "It's all very her, in her own way."

* * *

They were coming up on the corner by the entrance, and there was, actually, a security guard at the front desk. The sole front door had actually been propped open for the delivery man for the kitchens, he was getting his paperwork signed, and then he was rolling his cart back out through the front, shutting the door behind him.

"Okay, this looks bad…" Grandpa Phil was saying. "But don't you kids worry, I've got a plan!"

* * *

Any hope Gerald had for getting the stains out of his dress pants were officially dashed as he jumped out of the window in the lobby, into the flower gardens of the exterior of the building. He ruined someone's petunias, they probably worked hard on those, but they could suck it, because he was a tired man, in someone's damn flower garden.

"This is so damn stupid," He muttered to himself. He stood up, looking back through the window, watching Helga try and disable the technology that tracked Grandpa Phil's wheelchair, so that they wouldn't set off an alarm.

He shook his head. " _So_ damn stupid."

And of course, this plan involved him getting yelled at by some old guy in a security officer's uniform. Just long enough for him to distract him so Helga and Arnold could wheel Phil out of there.

He walked around to the front, grumbling the whole way. He pressed the buzzer that called the guard's attention.

"Visiting hours start at 9." The guard's tired voice came over the monitor.

"I'm not here for a visit-" That was a lie, but everything was a lie. "Please come to the door."

"What do you want-" The guys mean face was staring blankly at him, throwing open the door wearily.

"Okay, maybe it was a visit, but my Grandmum is sick," Gerald did not know how or why the british accent got involved- it just did. "And my work starts at eight!"

"Then you can come after."

"That's when my dog is going to the veterinarians!" Gerald didn't actually think british people always spoke with the full words instead of abbreviations, but it seemed to fit. "Please, Sir, she'll be so upset."

He paused. "Who's ya Grand…mum?" He asked suspiciously.

Gerald blanched, if only for half a second, but then his phone started to ring. He reached for it, and it was Arnold's number pulled up across the screen.

"That's her now." He told the man, concealing Arnold's name on the screen by answering quickly. "Grandmum, I'm trying to come for tea-" He was trying to talk before Arnold did, so that he knew the conversation they were 'having.'

"What up with the british?" Grandpa Phil's voice came over the line. "Nevermind- your grandma is Phyllis, in 23C!"

"Mumsie, maybe you could speak to the gentleman, explain this situation, you know, with _Patsy_. You know how I have to take him to the veterinarian the afternoon, poor darling, with his cancer, and all." Who named a dog Patsy- no one knew. Did dogs get cancer? Gerald didn't know. He prayed that the guard wasn't a secret dog cancer expert. He was already holding his phone out to the guard, looking insistent, hoping the scuffle on the other end, likely over who had to play Phyllis, wasn't too audible.

"Uh, hello?" The guard was apprehensibly answering the phone, "yea' listen, lady, I get it but- Well I didn't, well of course I- No, I completely respect the elderl, no I don't hate dogs, I just can't, well I suppose there are… 2C you said? Well, I understand Patsy is sic- listen, I grew up with two dogs, I know… well couldn't it, okay, yes, yes, I'll send him over." He passed the phone back like it burned him.

"Take a badge and please don't make me talk to anyone else," The guard walked around the back of the counter and handed him a guest badge. "Tell Phyllis I said hello, she's a good woman."

Gerald thanked him, and walked around the corner, noticing that Phil, Helga and Arnold were gone. Leaving him with only one small problem- how was he supposed to get out? How were they supposed to get Phil back _in_? He was walking quickly then, wondering exactly where the break room that he jumped out of was- he was visiting a dear grandmother, he wouldn't be aimlessly wandering around, when he heard a faint 'psst' noise.

A hand was waving at him from one of the dorms. "Come here!" A voice jeered at him.

He hoped this wouldn't get him killed, and followed it. A small, aging woman was beaming at him. Her curtains breezed behind her, her window open.

"Phil's gonna bust me outta here in a few weeks-" She didn't have any teeth. It was the only thing Gerald could remember about her. Nursing homes smelled _awful_. She pushed him towards the window. "Go, go, and bring back some Dunkin Donuts, will ya?"

They should have made Helga do this. That window was too damn small for any man his size.

Gerald was too tired after that to remember anything other than falling out of the window, ruining someone's lilies, and clomping defeatedly to the sedan that was parked on the street nearby.

* * *

"Uh, Pops-" Arnold almost wanted to laugh, because Gerald was referring to his father, not Gerald's, "who's this guy at our family funeral?" Arnold was helping his Grandpa out of the four door and into his wheelchair- which was tough to roll along the gravel, but it would have to do.

Gerald was referring to the man they didn't know, who was standing with them in the parking lot clearance for the park and the lake. He was tall and wearing an odd trash-man kind of suit.

"He's going to completely ignore the next ten minutes, and then be the man of Mom's hippy dreams." Arnold's dad said confidently.

"Lucky bastard," Grandpa swore, and Arnold would have laughed if he was even slightly less tired.

"It's called human composting, it's an entirely legal and natural process in which we-"

"No offense," Helga interrupted, "but I have learned more about death through personal experience and Google tonight than I have ever, ever wanted to know, and I really just need to get this the _hell_ over with."

He blinked. "Fair enough."

"Here, here, sister!" Grandpa reached out a hand to high five her. "I always loved this girl, Arnold."

"Basically, folks, it's so the city doesn't come after you when chunks of your loved one's dead body comes floating up on the shore and they run a DNA test on it."

"Yeah," Grandpa blinked, "I probably could have died without knowing that, but thanks though." He grabbed Arnold's Dad's pant leg furiously. "Cremation," He whispered to it. "You're promising me cremation, aren't ya?"

He snorted. "Yes, Dad."

"Good," He clapped, "let's get this show on the road, folks!"

* * *

Grandpa was singing, the boat was on fire, and Helga's knee was pressed into his knee as they sat on the bank of the lake, when Arnold realized he actually wasn't okay with the fact that he'd never see his Grandma again.

This was goodbye, this was the goodbye she wanted, and that made it goodbye and Arnold never handled those well.

See you laters, those he could handle, goodbye was a new territory.

It was never perfect- it was never exactly what he wanted, as a kid. Just like now, like how they couldn't let her body burn up partially in a boat to then float up on children, like she had wanted, he guessed.

That was just life. He was just finally starting to get his hands on that concept- that life was what it was, and not what you wished it could be.

She had never gotten that concept- in life or in death.

His heart ached- and God, did he _miss_ her.

She had fought so hard when he was a kid to make him feel the way all kids should, special, cared for, included. She had her own ways of going about it- but she tried, and she tried hard.

He reached up to brush his hair off his face, and it was wet and he knew he was upset, but he didn't know he was tears level of upset.

"Pookie, you were crazy-" Grandpa was saying, "but you gave me the gift of adventure, of _life_ , in a world of people who want to sit inside, a gift I can't ever repay and one that I am forever grateful for-"

Arnold, for a fleeting moment, looked down at Helga. Her face had tear tracks, Arnold was almost glad he hadn't really listened to his Grandpa's speech. She tucked her head in between his and his shoulder. He let his head rest on top of hers.

"But I won't cry tonight," his Grandpa's voice floated back into his consciousness, "for we were never connected by anything _earthly_ , as you used to say. And I always knew it was true, even if I called you crazy. And I know I'll see you, somehow, someway, soon enough."

Arnold pressed his face into Helga's hair. He just hoped she never brought up him crying on her ever again. He felt Gerald's hand wrap all the way around her from her other side to grab his shoulder.

Arnold thought, for a moment, that feeling loved when you're really really sad makes you sadder, because it didn't really help that much.

He looked up at his Grandpa. He smiled at him.

That helped.

The three of them sat in silence. The entire group of them sat in silence, as the man from the composting unit drew in the boat with a rope. Arnold just hoped his heavy breathing wasn't audible.

They drove the sedan back to the nursing home in silence. When they pulled into the lot, Grandpa was still smiling. "Just help me out, and drop me at the front, kiddos. I'll take it from there." They did as he asked, moving slowly from exhaustion, and watched him roll up to the front of the building with a shit-eating grin.

For the first time in hours, Arnold laughed.

* * *

"So, uh," Gerald was blinking at the darkness that still engulfed the nursing home parking lot. It was crazy how late the sunrise was in the autumn. The sun probably wouldn't start rising until Arnold's Grandma's funeral started. "What now?"

"Uh, I have a funeral to go to." Arnold blinked. He looked down at his pants, which had dirt grown into the knees. His jacket was probably a crumpled nest- sitting behind the seat of the truck all night. "I guess I should probably change."

Helga snorted. "Yeah, you look like you dug the hole they're throwin' her box into. Which is stupid, just so you know, because those coffins are literally thousands of dollars, the bounds that rich people will go to to avoid having conversations with each other honestly astounds me-"

Gerald put a hand on her shoulder- trying to give her a signal to please, for the love of God, shut the fuck up.

She did, and Gerald's tired ass thanked the Lord.

"The funeral home is where my car is-" Gerald yawned, walking ahead of his friends. "Let's get you home, and changed, and then you can take us there, and I'll take Pataki home." He got into the passenger seat of the truck without waiting for a response from his friends.

Arnold was officially too tired to be sad. Helga had gotten suddenly very chatty, in the way that tired people like to ramble. He only listened partially to her rant on mortality on their way to the boarding house. He changed into his only other black pants and a grey button down in his bathroom, before walking back to his room to tell them that he was ready to go.

They were knocked out, straight asleep, strewn out across his bed.

He smiled, snapped a picture on his phone, and left for the funeral, deciding to let them sleep.

He was probably too tired to legally drive himself, but he did anyway.

The only thing that he remembered in between leaving, coming back, and laying down to fall asleep beside his friends, was the thought that ran through his mind the night before and all morning.

Funerals were not for the dead, they were for the living.

He didn't shed one tear as they lowered the empty box into the ground, not one.

However, he did watch the rise and fall of his friend's chests beside him, and felt slightly more grateful to be alive. Grateful to be alive, grateful to be him, grateful for all the things his life had given him, but mostly the love. He was loved.

He was exhausted, emotionally drained, and had an ache in his ankle like no other, but he was lucky.

He was _so_ lucky.

* * *

Something was making a jingling noise at him and there was something…very human… breathing on Sid's neck. Sid tried not to move at all. He opened his eyes- looking left, which had a desk and…another bed, unless Sid wasn't currently in a bed, if so- Jesus Christ. On this right there was a wall with polaroid pictures strung up along it.

His head was about to explode, and there was hair that definitely was not his itching his arm. Why was it so damn bright in that room? The jingle was so loud it might as well have been a fucking gong clanging in Sid's head.

More importantly- why was he in that room? Who was sleeping on him? He prayed- momentarily, to whatever God was up there, that it was Helga.

He glanced down, and nope- that was definitely red hair.

Fuck.

* * *

Helga was curled into a ball in the corner of a bed- Gerald's head on her knees- Arnold with one hand on her arm. Her phone was ringing on the floor. She groaned, digging her head further into the pillow she was curled around.

"What time is it y'all?" Gerald stretched out- arms reaching over Helga's thighs. She would have considered that more intimate if she was less fucking tired- but she'd rather get hit by a baseball bat than move at the moment.

"It's 10:04" Arnold yawned. "Gerald, are you aware that you're laying on my entire lower half?"

"Sure am, bud." He rolled over- even more so on Arnold, yawning deeply.

Arnold sighed, "just checkin'."

The silence settled over them again. Helga was thinking that the entire thing should be a little more weird- and maybe it would be in a few hours, but for the moment, it was comfortable.

Helga's eyes creaked open. "10:04…" She muttered to herself.

"Probably 10:05 now." Gerald said into Arnold's bedsheets.

Helga bolted up. "Ah, fuck," She said quickly, rolling on to the floor in her tight skirt. How she made it through the entire night in it, she had no idea. "Yup." She picked up her phone- she missed the call, but Lila was already calling her again.

"Hey, Lila- are you at work yet?"

"No- I just woke up." If Helga felt exhausted, Lila sounded like she lived through at least three apocalypses. "We're gonna get murdered if we don't get there in time to open." The store opened at 11. The openers were supposed to be there by ten- which Lila and Helga, evidently, were not.

"Yeah- yeah, I know, I'm not home yet, though, so I'll need a change of clothes."

"I'll bring you pants, I think all my black polos are dirty," Lila yawned, "Do you need shoes?"

Helga looked down at the ground- her heels from last night long forgone. She thought she ditched them somewhere in between the party and the funeral home- she was lucky she came home with both.

"Yeah." She sighed.

"You're a 9, right? I'm an 8. We'll figure it out. Try and get there in fifteen." Lila yawned again. "I'll bring makeup wipes. We'll make it." She was trying her best to sound optimistic.

"I'll need a ride if I'm gonna get there in fifteen-" Helga was turning around, pushing a hand through his hair. Arnold was already sitting up- with his shoes on. Gerald was fast asleep. "Nevermind. I got it." She smiled fondly at him. She turned back around, looking at Arnold's mirror. She was fiddling with her hair- anything so it looked less tangled. "Anything else?"

"Yeah- uhm, you wouldn't happen to know if I had sex with Sid last night, do you?"

Helga stopped dead in her tracks. "If you…what!?"

"You know what, we'll talk when we get there, love you, see you, bye!"

And the line went dead. Helga turned around slowly, facing Arnold and a dead asleep Gerald.

"I hate our friends." She grumbled, and Arnold smiled at her for some unknown reason. "Gerald," She sort-of yelled, "Get up, I need your shirt."

* * *

Arnold was up just one and a half hour after falling asleep after trekking all over the place for hours the night before- and smiling because Helga Pataki admitted she had friends.

She was also fast asleep beside him- but that didn't matter to him in that moment, because she was the one who had to work all day, not him. He was gonna go straight back home and fall asleep- probably next to Gerald, who barely woke up enough to take his shirt off. His shirt sleeves were now rolled up and safety pinned on Helga.

He remembered, vaguely, where the shop was- and thanks to the relatively earliness of the morning, was able to parallel park directly outside of it.

"Helga, babe-" it slipped before he even realized it was coming out of his mouth, luckily she hadn't really regained consciousness yet. He grabbed her shoulder- vaguely remembering something about that being the best place to touch a sleeping person. "We're here."

She blinked blearily in the sunlight, and half-heartedly shoved his hand off her shoulder. She didn't say anything, just yawned and opened the car door. Arnold held in a laugh at her ensemble- wearing his socks, a tight skirt, and Gerald's shirt, she made quite the picture.

"Shove off, Football-head." She groaned, shutting the door quickly. He laughed then, rolling down his window to lean out the side.

"What time are you done?" He asked.

"3:30." She yawned, punching the alarm code into the door. She must have been too tired to ask why. Arnold waved at Lila through the giant glass windows, but she was tying her shoes and didn't notice.

* * *

"Here's a phone charger, there's make-up wipes and pants on the table, I left out some slip ons for you, they'll stretch, and I picked up bagels. After you get sorted, could you please start up the machines? I'll start on toppings, and we are not talking about Sid until after we have this place ship shape!" Lila spit that all out in an ungodly amount of time, whirling around the register, counting the drawers quickly. She was exhausted and her head hurt like hell and if she and Sid fucked they most definitely didn't use protection, she checked, she checked every inch of her room for a sign of it, and she really, really, did not want to get in trouble today. She wanted to do her job, flip out with Helga for a little, then go home, or as much of a home as her dorm was, and go to _sleep_. Sleep sounded so good it felt dirty to even say the word.

The thirty minutes they had to properly open the store flew by- Helga moved quickly after brushing off her face with the makeup wipe. Lila unlocked the door with pride- and right on time.

"Well," She turned around, looking at Helga, with a sigh. There wasn't actually anything to do then- no one would be in the store for another two hours, likely. "What did you do last night?"

"Oh my god," Helga groaned, " _please_ , do not ask."

* * *

If Sid and Lila actually started dating, Helga thought as she listened to Lila piece together exactly what happened the night before, she would probably jump off a cliff. Everyone in her life was getting too touchy feely and close for her comfort anyway- like, couldn't everyone ignore the prior night, and go back to normalcy, quietly hating each other from a distance? That was comfortable, that was good.

Luckily, it was a busy day in the store, Sundays were one of their peaks, with the after church crowd and the hung over college students later in the day. Lila barely had time to flip out at her about Sid, and Helga was still too tired to even process it. Three thirty came in a whirlwind, probably because she was half asleep for most of it, and she was counting down the minutes, when Lila was nudging her shoulder.

"What?" Helga looked up from ringing up someone's order. Arnold was standing outside, waving at her through the window. He didn't come inside- he looked like he was into a conversation with someone on his phone.

"Am I going to get an explanation for this?" Lila muttered to her as Helga thanked the customer, and they picked up their cup.

Helga groaned. "Would you believe me if I said I didn't have one?"

"Partially."

Helga groaned again, fiddling with some of the topping spoons.

"What, Helga? You don't exactly have the best track record with lying."

"Neither do you!" Helga exclaimed- and Lila turned bright red.

"Hey," Arnold said loudly as he walked into the shop, shoving his phone back in his pocket. "Are you ready to go?" He looked like he had been up for a few hours, but not done anything of specific importance, wearing old blue jeans and a plain grey sweater. His hair was rumpled. Helga wondered if they had reached the stage where she could straighten it, but she figured not.

"I-" Helga looked around, unsure, but not knowing why. "Yea, I guess. What are you doing here?" She felt aware how she looked, not that it mattered, as he saw her all the night before, but her hair was in a knot on her head, and her face had been rubbed raw that morning of makeup. She was wearing Lila's pants, that were probably three sizes too big, and four inches too short.

If he noticed, he didn't let it on.

"I still have your stuff at my place, and I thought you might want the ride. Also Gerald just woke up and he says we forgot to do something, but I think he might just still be tired."

"Just woke up?" Helga questioned. "That's over 12 hours!"

She was still a little alarmed that she was going to go hang out with Gerald Johannsen, whom she not only didn't speak to, but actively avoided for four years, _again_ , after just spending 15 hours with the man. She didn't know how she was going to explain this to Cass.

It felt like she had lived at least three lives in the span of leaving for the funeral the night before and then. Even the house party and stealing the boat...it all felt years away and miles apart.

"Tell me about it." Arnold grinned, "he was on the phone with Mari when I left. Are you done, Lila, do you wanna come?" He asked politely.

"I've got three more hours," Lila was a team leader, meaning longer shifts. "Have fun, though!"

Helga was so tired that she didn't ask any questions- and got back in the car, which was now the truck, so Arnold must have traded with his parents at some point.

sid 3:32

hey guys

do you like the name ferdinand for my first child

cass 3:32

boy or girl?

sid 3:33

its unisex!

cass 3:33

it definitely isn't

also

sid

what the fuck did you do

sid 3:34

well i don't exactly know, so that's part of the thing…

cass 3:35

oh my god.

* * *

 _a/n i prefer to leave end caps on everyhitn but really i dont have any words for this piece right now...lol... sorry if ur only in it for die hard arnold / helgs bc i obv...am not in this one lol. they're still main characters but i like to spread the drama sprinkles on everyone. i love pookie and i am sad now but phil will be returning soon so there's that. thanks if u support this fic or comment or whatever u do it means a lot to me & i very very much appreciate thank u very much_

 _love u all_

 _xx k._


	12. Chapter 12

helga 5:12

SOS

cass 5:12

?

what do you need?

helga 5:13

Sanity.

sid 5:14

i think we could paint the babys room yellow.

gender neutral n all that jazz

cass 5:14

sid don't you have to go be crazy somewhere else?

sid 5:15

not until 6.

helga 5:16

GUYS.

PLEASE.

sid 5:16

whats wrong tic tac?

helga 5:19

I'm at Arnold's house, room, Whatever. So this marks 24 full hours I've spent not only in the company of Football Head but also Mr. Quarter Back. And I haven't even begun to make plans to leave yet & I think I might be flirting (don't kill me) with Arnold? Like? Just a little bit? AND I'M HAVING FUN?! I DON'T KNOW!

cass 5:19

…

oh jeez

sid 5:20

gerald wasn't even quarter back.

it was mike caine

cass 5:21

sid no one cares

sid 5:22

well FINE i guess ill just have to FIX EVERYTHING

LIKE ALWAYS

cass 5:23

sid you never helped us fix anything

one time i asked for you guys help on my science project

you made a penis out of the wire i bought for the project

laughed about it

& then ate all the corn in my house

sid 5:25

well in my defense it was rlly good corn

cass 5:26

my mom made me and tac go buy more corn

sid 5:27

she didnt make me come?

cass 5:27

YOU FELL ASLEEP

sid 5:28

oh.

lol.

helga 5:30

Okay.

You guys are the actual worst, so I'll just panic over here about this by myself, thanks.

sid 5:32

I SAID IM FIXIN IT

CALM UR HORSES HOE

cass 5:33

thats not how that expression goes

sid 5:33

be there in 25.

arnold moved back into his old place rite?

i remember where it is i think

helga 5:33

Sid. No.

cass 5:33

25?

helga 5:33

Sid this is a TERRIBLE idea.

cass 5:34

its 5 mins away from H.U. wyd before you fix the crisis?

sid 5:35

oh lol my bike got stolen so imma have to walk.

helga 5:36

Oh my god.

sid 5:37

or i left it on a street corner and someone just took it.

lol.

cass text me in an hour ill let ya know if this arnold thing is a no go

helga 5:38

You guys can't just decide these things for me!

cass 5:39

wait i cant remember is he actually cute or is he only cute to helgs

"What are you so furiously texting about?" Gerald was eating something, looking over her shoulder curiously. She was sitting on Arnold's bed in her black shirt from the night before and a pair of Arnold's basketball shorts. Gerald and Arnold were, up until that moment, trying to hook a tv up to cable in the corner of his room. It was going poorly.

Everything about the room except the skylight and the couch bed was completely devoid of character, or color, frankly, with white walls and a gray carpet. Arnold had prattled on about colors and tapestries and his sudden rush of excitement for interior decoration was alarmingly endearing.

Helga furrowed her brows at her phone. "My friends are idiots," she commented lightly, reading the new texts from them.

sid 5:39

cute tbh

cass 5:40

cute level?

like

hey sir may i take your daughter to prom?

or

your daughter calls me daddy too

Helga snorted, flipping her flip phone from the last decade shut. "Sid is apparently making his way over here." She announced to Arnold, who was laying on the floor trying to connect wires.

"Cool," he enthused, but without breaking his concentration on the t.v. "Does he know anything about wiring?"

"Don't ask him that." Helga warned, toying with her phone. "He'll say yes, somehow get a plunger involved, and one thing will lead to another and your house will be burning down."

Arnold laughed. "Noted."

"Y'all," Gerald said loudly, and Helga looked over, he was now laying back on Arnold's bed, bag of chips in one hand and phone in the other. "When are we eatin'? I'm starving. Can we get chinese food?"

"You're eating now." Helga told him.

"No," he corrected calmly, shoving more chips in his mouth. "This is snacking." He stopped for a moment and gazed at his phone, eyes squinting up with curiosity.

"What's up?" Helga asked, pushing herself off the bed so she could try and help Arnold.

"My girlfriend's just wondering where the fuck I am. Which I can't blame her, because we're literally together non-stop."

"Is she mad?" Arnold inquired, smiling at Helga as she plopped down to sit next to him.

"Nah, man, I don't think so? She's just confused." He paused for a moment, before reading aloud: "when did you get friends?" He let that register, Helga saw the transition on his face, and then his face twisted up in frustration, "man if this girl _don't_ -"

* * *

Arnold was a boy- man, whatever, with functioning eyes. And a brain. Seeing a pretty girl and registering her as pretty in that brain of his wasn't so much of a problem to him, because that's just what it was. He was him, the girl was pretty, it was what it was.

The underlying problem in all of that was that Helga kind of looked like she had woken up a half hour ago and simultaneously like she had fought a war when he picked her from work. She looked a little happier in that specific moment in his bedroom now, wearing a more comfortable shirt and Arnold's own basketball shorts, hair twisted up oddly on her head. Her face was still a little red, probably irritated from not properly washing it the day before and her mouth was wide open, telling Gerald some sort of gossip about some kid Arnold didn't know loudly.

The only problem with the whole picture was that she really didn't look very pretty. Her mouth was open really widely- bizarrely so. Her hair was pulled up, and it was laying flatly on her head because she had no time to shower in between the time he had seen her last and that moment. She was comfortable looking, and hunched over and she was rubbing her nose with her hand.

But he wasn't _really_ thinking of any of that at all. All he could really think was how much he wanted to kiss her- and that, there, was the problem of it all.

"Arnold?" She was talking to him and he hadn't even noticed, "hey, Arnold?"

"What?" He snapped out of it, pushing himself to sit up on the floor. "Sorry, what did you say?"

She looked like she was picking her words carefully. "Do you have any, say, qualms against…" She glanced at Gerald, "alcohol consumption featuring minors?"

"Do I… what?!"

"Do you drink?" Gerald asked, straight to the point. Helga rolled her eyes. Arnold looked in between them, a grin filled with mirth spreading across his face.

"Well, considering I was fourteen when I moved to San Lorenzo where the drinking age is _if you can get it_ , and 18 when we moved to Borneo, where the drinking age is 18, yes, I do." He smirked. "Although I got to tell you, after a few years it lost it's appeal. It hardly even mattered in April when we moved to be with the Gondi's." He squinted at Helga. "Why?"

"Sid was doing as he does, and was going to bring some with him. Not a party or anything," she glanced at Gerald, "but a little bit."

"Oh." Arnold shrugged, "yea, that's fine."

"Well, now that that's settled," Gerald clapped his hands together, "The missions for the evening, ladies and gentleman," He stood up suddenly, as if he were about to give a great speech. "Operation n. 1, also titled Operation O, we forgot to bring my girl Phyllis donuts, and I told her we would. And without her I could very well still be paling it up with the elderly, bringin' 'em prune juice and what-not. And Operation 2! Also titled, Operation C: get me some chinese food to go with whatever nonsense Sid is bringing because y'all _know_ ya' boy can't drink on an empty stomach."

Helga rolled her eyes again. Arnold noticed she had long eyelashes, "whatever, quarterback." She called him, rolling off the bed.

"I'm a runningbac-"

"Whatever." She landed with a thud on the floor, scooting over to where Arnold was still sitting. "What exactly are you trying to do here, show me," her hands were on his then, taking the wires from him.

Alcohol was suddenly welcome in his mind, anything to distract him from the blonde sitting next to him.

* * *

"Good morrow, friends!" Sid announced as the door opened, paper bag filled with water bottles of booze in one hand, his phone in the other. "I bring alcohol and good tidings!"

The three in the door way were blinking at him. Arnold had opened the door and was now leaning against the door. Helga was standing just a step behind him, Gerald on her other side. Sid was the only person present wearing real pants, he noted.

"Gee, thanks," he said sarcastically, "really warm welcome, guys."

Arnold laughed, "sorry Sid, we're a little beat."

"And hungry, here man, I'll take that, because we're goin' straight back out," He reached out for Sid's bag, which he handed over gratefully, it was heavy. He ran it back up the stairs. Sid tried not to be envious of the ease that Gerald handled the bag with. So Sid had struggled for ten blocks, what of it?

"We're going out to do some weird thing that Gerald wants to do," Helga explained, stepping forward. Sid noticed her arm was just brushing Arnold's.

"And then we're gonna get chinese food," Arnold added with a grin.

"Hell yea we are!" Gerald called from up the stairs.

Helga yawned deeply, then set her head on Arnold's arm. Sid tried not to give her a suspicious look. "God, I'm tired." What a corny line, Sid probably failed his own task of not squinting his eyes at Helga.

"Sleep later," Gerald commanded as he hopped back down the steps, "Donuts for the elderly, then chinese food, now." Sid had no idea how a man of Gerald's size managed to _hop_ , but he did. He memorized the visual, the lowkey comedic genius it was.

* * *

Mariella wasn't exactly _wrong_.

Gerald really _didn't_ have explicit friends. He didn't text anyone constant updates or ask about their days, except for her. There weren't really inside jokes in his life, just regular ones.

He had her, Stinky- he supposed, and a shit ton of acquaintances.

But all of the squad goals tweets and fire group text posts, he never really related to those. He never really sought people to hang out with, he kind of just got invited to parties and hung out with whoever was in his general vicinity. He never really thought of himself as lonely, persay.

"We're getting glazed."

"Wow, Helga, I can't believe you hate the elderly."

"I do not hate the elderly, Sid, I just believe in tradition."

"I'm sorry, what did you say, Tac? I don't speak ELDERLY-HATER."

"That barely makes sense."

"Arnold, will you _please_ tell your girlfriend that glazed donuts are for fish and people that hate the elderly?"

"Arnold, will you _please_ tell Sid that I'm not your girlfriend and that the elderly like boring things?"

He was listening from the driver's seat to the bickering with a bemused smile. Banter had rather forgone his life as of the last few years. It wasn't that Stinky, or Jake, as he preferred to be called, wasn't a good guy, but he wasn't particularly quick on the draw either, and sometimes it was rough, having him for a best friend.

"I'm gonna call Grandpa," Arnold twisted around to face the two of them. "He can ask Phyllis what she would like." He turned back around, taking a moment to type something into his phone before putting it to his ear.

Gerald heard Helga's phone ding, and then the loud thump as she kicked Arnold's chair.

Arnold laughed out loud then, calming down to talk to Grandpa, "hey, Grandpa-"

Gerald gave Helga a shifty look through the rear-view mirror. "Do I want to know?"

She frowned, wrinkling up her nose, and shaking her head, "no," she replied, "I really don't think you do."

He sighed, but with good nature, because on the inside: he was really enjoying himself. It was hard to act long-suffering when you were having more fun than you've had in ages. "That's what I thought," he told her, feigning exhaustion.

On the inside, however, he was beaming.

* * *

Phyllis was fine with glazed.

* * *

Sid remembered, very distinctly, the first time he asked Helga about Jake, her ex-boyfriend. He remembered that she retweeted one of his tweets, it was generic and something about a band, but she was barely ever on twitter because she didn't have a smart phone, so it surprised him.

When he asked her about it, about who he was, she said "oh, I met him at the record store on 12th, he's a good guy, so I followed him on twitter."

He wiggled his eyebrows at her and made an ooh-ing noise.

She rolled her eyes. "He has a girlfriend and he's _definitely_ not my type."

He remembered it so well because he looked at her and then back down at the tweet on his phone, and thought to himself that maybe Helga didn't know it, but this guy was going to be a Thing and a big Thing to her, and therefore, apart of Sid's life by proxy. He just knew.

He was sitting and thinking about that at a booth in a shitty Chinese restaurant, cheap paper lantern above his head and fake wood under his hands. Arnold was leaned against the counter, listening to Helga rant about something. He had this oddly fond look on his face, and he let her talk.

Arnold could be good for Helga, because he always just let her talk. She looked mildly upset by whatever she was talking about, but that wasn't uncommon. She was an overtly passionate girl. Once Sid saw her get so worked up she cried over spaghettios. It was just her way.

Arnold was still listening, but he paused her speech to ask the woman behind the counter something. She cocked her head at him, but then she smiled. She returned and handed something to him, which he promptly handed to Helga.

Sid was glad that whole charade was happening, so he could think more about that moment, the Jake thing.

He had had a couple of moments like that in his life.

Ditching the weird boots, finally, in the 7th grade, because Helga told him she thought they were weird.

Freshman year, when he overheard Stinky and some guy discussing try outs for football, and Sid wouldn't admit it to himself then, but he tried out because he was kind of hoping to bridge that gap back to Stinky.

Meeting Cass because he was trying to hide in a tuba locker in the band room, and she hid her pot in a clarinet.

They were just defining moments in his life, where something hit him: this is going to be a Thing and it is going to Effect Me. And he didn't add to them lightly, he didn't diminish the others by adding 'got my bike lost and, or stolen' or 'hit a gopher with a baseball' to the list.

But he swore to whoever was up there, as he watched Helga unwrap and take a huge bite of the egg roll, before firmly grabbing Arnold's chin with her free hand, moving it to the side, and aggressively kissing his cheek, that his list of Moments just got a little longer.

* * *

Helga had really no formal idea of what on earth she was doing, sitting on Arnold's floor, shoveling lo mein into one part of her mouth, and using the other half to tell Sid that _no_ , chickens in fact did _not_ fly well enough to go long distances. She meant- she knew she was doing _that_ , the part she didn't understand was the part of her that was leaning on Arnold, the part of her that kissed his cheek earlier, the part of her that would _not_ stop flirting with him. She had barely finished a double jack and coke but she was feeling warm and fuzzy, her chest tingling lightly. She was sitting directly in between Arnold's legs on the floor, himself leaned up against the bed. Sid was laying out on his back across from her, the longer he talked the clearer it became to everyone but him that he was thinking of geese. Gerald was laying on his stomach on the bed on Helga's left, mostly shoveling through a plate of orange chicken rather than contributing to the discussion.

Now that Helga thought back on it- Arnold was always more affectionate than she was. She hadn't really been shown appropriate ways to show love as a child, as much as that made her heart sink. She ignored her cell phone, the one that would not have a single text from her father despite not setting foot in her house in more than 24 hours.

She was always harsh with affection, aggressive then quitting. She kissed hard and quick, she put her feet on people as an excuse to feel their body heat. She leaned on Arnold as if it were all only for her personal gain, and not, god forbid, that she just wanted to be touching him.

Arnold, she was reminded by the hand drumming on her knee cap, was quite the opposite. His use of affection was slow and deliberate. His touches were warm and lingered just long enough to let the receiver know that it was intentional. He rubbed his hand on the back of whomever he was hugging. He grabbed elbows when he finished conversations, he leaned in close to show he was listening.

It all made her head spin but that was partially what alcohol did to her, made her analytical mind go even wilder. Stanzas were already being built up like brick walls in her mind, right on top of the poured cement that was her own observations.

And maybe she was all too busy thinking to really notice that she set her plate down, and let her head rest on Arnold's chest.

Maybe her thoughts were just too consumed by the allegory of the patterns of their own affections to really _take in_ that he put a hand on her stomach, a chin on the crown of her head.

Maybe.

* * *

It had been quiet for a few moments, Gerald set his phone down to observe the scene. Gerald looked down at the two on the floor, Helga nodded off on Arnold's chest, Arnold smirking at her.

"Sid," Arnold cleared his throat, shifting up a little, carefully, as to not disturb the girl sleeping on him. "Can I ask you about," Gerald was at a disadvantage, he could only really see the top of Arnold's head. But he knew from the tone of his best frie- of his friends, voice, that he was talking about Helga.

Sid must have known either by the voice of the look on his face, because he groaned, rolling over to shove his face into the carpet.

"Arnold," he whined, "I gotta tell ya' you are not the first person to ask me. Everyone asks me to clarify literally all of her actions." He moved his face towards them, leaving his body flush on the floor. His face was red, but that wasn't surprising, considering he just rubbed it on a carpet. "And my only answer is good luck my man, and let me know if you figure anything out."

Gerald laughed then, but Sid only shot him a serious look.

"I'm not kidding," he blinked, speaking solemnly. He looked back to Arnold, "literally. Anything."

Gerald laughed again.

* * *

When she woke up on top of Arnold, greeted by discussion of the Ghostbusters reboot, she decided she was not drunk enough for any kind of conversation that could be had on top of Arnold. She rolled away, poured herself a straight shot, and took it like a champ. Arnold's sentence paused when she did so, but he continued, probably while staring at her confusedly, if she had any kind of a guess. She didn't know, she was confused herself. She laid down on her stomach next to Sid. Sid who was constant. Sid who was safe.

"Do you want to go home?" Sid muttered by her ear in a low voice while Gerald and Arnold were distracted. "Or back to my dorm? I'll walk you, either way."

Helga questioned at a few points in her life if she truly appreciated Sid the way he deserved to be.

"No," she answered before thinking it properly through. "I really don't want to go home." She said it too loudly, because Arnold's eyes were on hers, crinkled up in the corners. Helga knew that look. She knew that look. The monstrosity that was _concern_ lived in those wrinkles, and she hated _that look_ more than anything.

"Why? What's up?" Gerald questioned loudly, untactfully. He was not a graceful drunk man. Helga didn't think anyone of them was _really_ drunk, though.

"I, um-" Helga didn't know how to begin a sentence she didn't know the ending to.

"Helga's dad is a piece of shit, we avoid him and discussion of him whenever possible: let's move on!" Sid announced for her, taking a swig while standing up. "Who wants to play a game I just made up, it's called fire hockey and either the puck or the sticks are on fire, I haven't decided yet, and then the goal-"

Helga, in that moment, thought that she _definitely_ didn't appreciate Sid enough.

* * *

Helga, for all of her stubbornness about _who she was_ , had changed in quite a few ways since Arnold moved. She was taller, obviously, as they all were, and definitely grown more into her own body.

But damn, if that girl hadn't managed to remain just as confusing, Arnold figured.

He watched her laugh privately with Sid over something, face flushing attractively. Gerald finished whatever he was drinking, setting down the cup with all the vigor one can set down a plastic cup with.

"Man," he slid down to the floor to sit next to Arnold, "do we have any of those egg roll ass things left?"

Helga, next to the chinese food bag, kicked one across the room. Her long leg stretched out to do so, and then just laid on the ground. Arnold tried to ignore it.

"Hell yes," Gerald unwrapped it viciously. "Although, you know who this 'ish reminds me of?" He, to Arnold's surprise, looked to Helga.

"Phoebe." They said in unison.

Sid's face squinted up in confusion, "wasn't she Japanese?"

"Yea," Helga smiled, looking sentimental, at least, to Arnold she did, "and she hated chinese food. Which sucks, because, you know, delicious." She laid back out, stretching her lean body out. Arnold chose to look at Gerald instead.

"Wouldn't touch it with a ten foot pole," Gerald agreed, "it really hurt 13 year old me, on an emotional level." He touched a large hand to his chest like he could feel the pain now. Arnold looked back across the room, and noticed Helga rolling her eyes. Arnold paused to watch Gerald. Either he had drank more than the rest of them, or he was more of a lightweight than Arnold expected. He was swaying ever so slightly, the edges of his words touching at a slur.

"God," he looked up, as if a memory was playing on a screen in front of him, "she…she wasn't wrong when she yelled at us for treatin' her like trash."

Helga sighed, setting her face in her palm in front of her. "No," She groaned into it, "she wasn't."

"I tried to say sorry this one time," Gerald clarified for the room, suddenly speaking directly to Arnold instead of Helga. Drunk people very rarely had any kind of real focus. "But that…"

"That went to all hell, if I remember correctly," Sid added in, pouring himself another drink. Arnold squinted at it, deciding if he wanted one too, but he was too interested in the conversation proceeding to really consider it.

"You do," Gerald nodded, "it did."

"Well," Helga added in, flipping to lay on her back. She played with her fingers, they were long and delicate, "at least you tried. I never did."

"You should," Gerald mused, nodding towards the floor, "I should too. It's good for you, closure and that kind of shit." He got a hint of excitement edging in his voice, leaning forward to crawl to Helga. "Yo, we could make a trip out of it!" He leaned over her excitedly, grabbing her shoulders, "the four of us. We could drive our sorry little asses up to wherever the fuck Yale is, you and me say sorry, get all kind of closure nonsense, and those two get a road trip!"

Arnold couldn't see Helga, but she laughed. It made him smile. It made his heart warm a little. The Arnold of 2 hours ago was certainly wrong. Alcohol did not make him forget about Helga, it made him all the more aware of her.

"Alright, you give me a car and we'll go say sorry to Phoebe." She promised him, holding up a pinky. He hooked his in hers, massive hand and small hand meeting.

"Hell yea' we will. Shit's gonna be _real_."

Arnold rolled across the room to pour himself another drink.

* * *

It was four in the morning, and she was still at Arnold's house, barely awake, in between of Gerald and Arnold.

Again.

The only thing that really changed was now there was the addition of the crumpled up ball of Sid on the floor.

There were inevitably moments in life that she was more proud of than others, that's just what made it a life. There were also moments in life that made her question everything, why certain animals went extinct, why the stars aligned the way they did, why in the hell she was lying between Arnold and Gerald for the _second_ night in a row?

Why in the _fucking_ hell did she _not particularly mind that_?

Why she felt safer there, in the dumb ass, bland ass, white room, in between the world's biggest idiots, than she had felt in her own home, in her own skin, in months?

Why she acted like she didn't know the answer to the previous question when she knew full well she did?

How Arnold ever got any goddamn sleep with entire fucking city lights above him?

She laid on her back, blinking up at the sky. It was entirely bizarre that she could do that while she was inside. She, in the little part of her heart that didn't get to talk a lot, loved it. She secretly adored everything about it. The airplane going by, and the small draft that the old windows and poor insulation caused.

She loved it.

Even, maybe, a little, her companions, kind of.

She let her head drop to the right, looking at Arnold. He was bent up almost awkwardly, on his side sort of, but with his arm splayed out above her head. The other arm was crossed up awkwardly, as if he was avoiding touching her.

Fuck it, she thought to herself, as she wiggled up the bed slyly, placing her head directly on the arm he had arranged over her head. She watched him smile without opening his eyes, slowly, and then he moved very quickly all at once.

He pulled his arm out from under her, tucking it up under the pillow that was under his head, pulling it so hers could rest on it too. He flipped his body so he was laying on his stomach, and ergo- partially on her. His leg rested on hers- dangerously close to slipping in between hers.

He let his other arm lay across her stomach. His face laid close to hers, his mouth by her ear.

"Sleep," He whispered softly. His voice was almost alarmingly hot on her ear, some of his hair flopped unto her forehead. Then, almost as an afterthought, while she was still thinking about the whole breath thing, he kissed her, right under the ear. Which felt completely, indisputably, unfair. Which, maybe, was blithely naive considering her own actions not six hours ago. But still: unfair. She worried he could feel her heart beat.

She couldn't remember the last time a boy made her heart race.

She couldn't remember the last time…anyone made her heart race.

Maybe he was a little drunk.

Maybe she was?

Maybe no one really was and everyone just made that shit up because everyone loves excusing their own actions, their own feelings, which didn't make any sense at all because they just _were_. Feelings _were_ what they _were_. They weren't negotiable, so why did she constantly fight to dismiss them?

She knew she couldn't sleep like that, all too aware of him and the body heat and the breathing- dear god, she could never.

And she didn't move.

She didn't move one _inch_.

* * *

 _a/n hello all! long time no see, i went on a little TJM esque adventure of my own, lol. im back 2 writing about my children now, lol. love them so. if ur wondering, yes, this will have a fair amount of lazing around. if u didnt know...thats what teenagers do...very often. lol. but at least with helga its /emotional/ laying around._

 _what do u think, drunk gerald and helga gonna hold to their roadtrippin word? they did literally just go on one, lol._

 _thank u, like always, if u leave feedback or interact w/ me at all, means the absolute world to me, and i love u very much! thanks all! xx_


	13. Chapter 13

Being the best goldfish in a pond was not difficult.

Being the best goldfish in the ocean was.

Being the best goldfish in a giant aquarium sized tank filled with the best goldfish cultivated from every pond, lake, and ocean was nearly impossible.

Although that thought had always resided in the back of her mind, although it had never really left, from the day she got her acceptance letter… it had never really hit her.

Rhonda's eyes stung with tears as she stared at her grade on her laptop, her grade for her paper posted…emblazoned with a D. She was thankful in that moment that her parents shelled out the money for a single room. Crying alone was pathetic, but in front of other people? Disastrous.

The worst part of the grade was that she didn't know why. It wasn't as if she deserved it for lack of effort, she hadn't procrastinated or been out partying, like the cause of a few bad grades in high school. She had done what she was supposed to do, put it through torturous editing and rigorous reviewal. It just wasn't good enough. She had done her best, and it wasn't good enough.

And she had no idea who to tell about it.

After the third day at college, the group chat she had with her friends from high school went dead. After everyone was done showing off dorm rooms and gagging over school food…it was a small, virtual ghost town.

It was the third week of October, and she hadn't, exactly, made friends yet. But extracurriculars had just barely gotten under way and many of them prohibited freshman, and classes were only a month in.

Failure wasn't an option. It never had been and it would never be. Failure academically, failure socially, failure industrially- all inexcusable. And, so, it was decided, she'd go back, for only a few nights, to a place where she wasn't a failure. Where she was, quite frankly, amongst the best of the best.

"Dad," She had wiped the tears off before he picked up, even though it was a phone call and there was no feasible way for him to see them, "can I throw a party at the house next weekend?"

She was struggling to put on shoes with one hand, but not failing, "no, not the Friday coming up in four days, that's preposterous." Her heel slid in, finally. "Yes…yes, I do suppose I mean Halloween weekend."

* * *

At eleven a.m., Helga was awake, Sid and Arnold were watching Adventure Time, and Gerald wasn't in sight. Her phone was buzzing, and she groggily rolled over to open it, where Arnold must have left it, charging, on his bed.

"What." She answered tiredly.

"Good morning, Sunshine." She could hear the laugh in Cass' voice. It was sad that Helga could visualize the face she was making. It was eight a.m. there, Cass's hair would be tied up in this ridiculous fluffy bun on her head, twisted up in the sheets that she and Helga had picked out together at Target before she left. It was so bright and sunny there, she could picture the freckles that were probably spanning her nose and cheeks, like they did every time the Slater's, Cassidy's family, took them to the beach.

Helga could see it all so well that it stabbed at her chest, a bolt of electricity running through her.

"We have another problem-" the cartoon dog said on Sid's dumbass favorite show. "This dolphin fell in love with me!" Sid laughed too hard. "That's the opposite of a problem!" Arnold laughed too. It lightened Helga's heart, ever so slightly.

"You know me," Helga replied. "Morning person to boot."

Cass snorted, but didn't argue."Hey, have you been on Facebook today?"

"Cass." Helga was never on Facebook. Cassidy never remembered that.

"Right, yes, sorry. Well. Guess who's throwing the very first Hillwood reunion party?"

"Rhonda," Helga replied bluntly.

The sigh Helga heard through the phone had warmth to it, as much as a sigh ever did. "So quick-witted."

"Guess who probably wasn't invited?" Helga inquired, laying back on the bed, shuffling under the covers. October chill had finally started to set into their town.

"Who?"

"Me."

"I don't know, Helgs," there was a pause, Cass was probably scrolling through the Facebook page, "it looks like she invited the entire damn town."

"ADVENTURE TIME-" Sid sang loudly, the next episode had started playing, "COME ON GRAB YOUR FRIENDS-"

"Do I hear Sid?" Cass was grinning at her through the phone at her friend's obnoxious voice. Helga sat up, hiding her own fond smile.

"I don't know, I just hear an idiot." She replied cooly.

"WITH JAKE THE DOG AND FINN THE HUMAN" Sid didn't turn to look at her, just held his hands above his head, two middle fingers proudly pointing towards the sky.

"Are you at his dorm?"

"No, actually, I'm still at Football Head's house."

Helga threw a pillow at the aforementioned head. He caught it with one hand, looking back to smirk at her. She tried, very hard, to not find the quick reflexes so attractive.

Cassidy paused in her speech. "You'll text me about that later, then."

Helga already planned on it.

"And you should go to Rhonda's party, invite or no. She'll never notice if you weren't, and you have to figure out who's already a hoe and report back."

"Everyone's a hoe, Cass." Helga laid back on the bed again, sans pillow, which she then kind of regretted throwing at Arnold. "Just some are louder about it. You're a hoe."

"Babe, I'm trying to be!" She whined, "hoeism is hard. Lesbians love feelings."

Helga snorted. "I wish you the best of luck, but I don't plan on attendi-" her phone was snatched from her hand, Sid now hovering above the bed.

"Where am I making Helga go?" He asked quickly. His face split into a beam at her response, eyes twinkling, "aw, Cass-" He crooned, "I miss you too." He sounded sincere, it made Helga smile.

He trotted down Arnold's steps, listening to Cass intently. He gestured behind his shoulder, that he would return, hopefully with Helga's phone, in a minute.

A door didn't shut, just the sound of Sid's footsteps trotting away distracted from the air that Helga felt thickening in the room. Helga and Arnold were alone, truly alone, for the first time in years, and Helga felt the weight of it settle over her skin like a heavy coat.

* * *

"No offense, man-" Jake's voice still had the tiniest bit of twang in it, as hard as he tried to conceal it, "but where the hell have you been?"

It was too damn early for the third degree, still dark outside, Gerald was dumping his stuff in their school's locker room before heading out for early morning drills. Jake did not play for the team, and actually had not yet gone to bed. It was quarter till five in the morning. Jake was sporting eyes with red rims and the gross mixture of chocolate and weed on unbrushed teeth. He showed up, two friends in tow, who had fallen asleep in the girl's dorm they were hanging out in the night prior, somewhere on Lila's floor, if Gerald remember correctly.

Jake, all in all, was a good friend. He woke his friends up and walked them over to the field despite wanting to crash himself. Five a.m. calls for practice were brutal, and kind of unfair, but their coach wanted them centered on Monday for a focused week.

"I've been around-" Gerald lied quietly, trying his shoes with shaky fingers. He probably needed to sweat out the last bit of liquor in his blood.

"Yea," Jake was staring at him inquisitively as he could while high, "man, look- man." Jake was not good with weed yet. He knelt down to where Gerald was sitting on the bench. "Hey. I. You-" He paused, searching for the words, "there's not another. Is there a girl. Man?" He pieced together the words like someone sewing four different jackets together.

Gerald snorted- there was a girl, alright. But he, privately, was pleased at Jake's protection of his girlfriend. Men don't cheat, they both held each other to that standard.

"No, Jake. Me and Mari are perfectly fine." He stood up, pat Jake's shoulder, and then moved past him. "Go to bed, man, text me when you wake up, we'll get lunch."

Jake was going to miss his 10 a.m. class, but that was a lost cause, so Gerald didn't bother with reminding him to set an alarm.

* * *

"So," Arnold asked, flopping on his stomach on his bed next to Helga. "Do you work today?" She sat, legs criss-crossed, on the edge of it. He rolled over, propped himself up on an elbow, and stared at her. Or the back of her, rather.

"Uh," She twiddled her thumbs and tucked back some stray hair that had fell out of the bun she had over half her head. Arnold didn't even notice that he was nervous for her answer. "No, I don't."

"Fantastic." He sat up next to her. He knocked his shoulder in to hers. "You can join me for paint duty!" He enthused, expecting her whining or at least sarcasm.

"Okay." She shrugged, not putting up a fight in the slightest, which surprised him. He supposed she didn't really have a reason to. "But first things first: we have to stop at my house. I can't wear the same clothes for another day, they'll start to stick to me, and I desperately need a shower."

He shrugged, shoving the smile that was creeping up back, far back, under the surface. "Fair game."

Sid's footsteps raced back up the steps, he threw the phone at Helga, "I have to go to fucking _class_!" He was throwing his shoes on in a frenzy, Helga giggled. "Jesus Christ- I am so fucking late."

"Chill, Sid," Arnold told him easily, pushing on his knees to stand up from the bed. "Helga- shoes. We'll drop Sid at U, and then head to yours."

He hadn't thought anything odd of it, as he braced himself against a wall, pulling a van on without untying the laces. But when he looked up, Sid was staring in between Helga, who was pulling on Lila's borrowed shoes, and himself with an impressed expression. Arnold could only assume the amazement had everything to do with Helga listening to what he asked her to do with minimal attitude. Arnold frowned and shrugged at Sid- he could never predict the girl's action. Sid shook his head and mouthed to Arnold " _insane_."

* * *

Lila very rarely felt lonely. It was just a fact in her life, there were always people around her. Lila suddenly found herself wishing for a friend, a best friend, that she could talk to about everything. About having more fun with Sid than she had at any particular frat party, about not being sure whether or not to fuck her body over with Plan B- just in case. About whether or not she should go to Rhonda's party- even though it was inevitable, she definitely would.

She found herself sitting on her dorm bed, scrolling lazily through the contacts in her phone, then her texts. She blinked at the odd number sitting midway down it, scrolling through the texts, and then remembered it was Sid, and she had never put his number in her phone. She was typing a greeting, but then stopped herself, dropping her phone to her bed, and lying back flat.

"Lila Sawyer," she told herself, staring up at her ceiling, the crack in the center of it, where the light was, "you are fucking crazy."

* * *

After they dropped Sid- who ran his butt off to class as soon as Arnold pulled over, the roads Helga led Arnold on, as far as he could remember, was not towards the house she used to have. They pulled up to a townhouse that could be charming if it were properly taken care of. But it wasn't- the a lawnmower sat inside empty flower beds with rocks littering the entire surface. A large spider web grew from it's handles to the sides of the house- the bricks crumbling and gray. There was little grass that needed cut, the small yard was patchy and mostly brown. A small, swirling, white but rusting wire fence was fallen down in one part. The window panes were cracked, and one shutter was held shut with duct tape.

"You stay here," she was already unbuckling her seatbelt, "I will go inside. His car is gone," she did a double take for insurance, "but if it pulls up, drive around the block or something."

"Helga," he said carefully. He shifted around in his seat, grabbing her forearm gently "is there something I need to kno-"

"Arnold." She grabbed the hand he had on her arm, held it tight in hers. "No, there isn't." She let go then, and was out of his car before he could even think to tell her to _please_ pack extra clothes.

"And just who are you texting so furiously?" Mariella asked with a glint of amusement in her eye, tucking up long, curly textured hair into a bun on her head. She sat at her desk, Gerald on her bed. Her roommate was, thankfully, far from the room.

"Arnold," Gerald answered quietly, biting his lip. "He's tryna' figure out if askin' Helga if she wants a place to stay would piss her off or not."

"Helga," She drawled slowly, standing up, although Gerald hadn't noticed yet, figuring out his wording for his next text. "The one you said would be at the funeral? Who you, quote unquote said, you literally can't fucking stand?" She pushed him by the shoulder on to her bed, settling half on top of him, half on the side. He grinned and set down his phone. He didn't know what kind of fool he was actin' like, ignoring the ridiculously hot girl in front of him to text his best fr- his _childhood_ best friend.

"She's…" He looked up at the ceiling, "exhausting."

Mariella hummed in response, drawing a circle on his chest with her forefinger. She could just tell sometimes that he wasn't done talking.

"But…a good person. At heart. Somewhere. I guess."

"You…guess?" She tilted her head innocently to the side, like her question was an actual question. But Gerald knew it wasn't, and it was the tale as old as time I told you so look that she loved to give him spread across her face.

"Whatever, now," he shuffled up into her pillows. A dorm bed was really not big enough for the both of them. It was barely big enough for one Gerald, "you said you hated your Math professor, what'd he do?"

"Holy shit-" He had just opened a whole can of worms, "okay, so first day, first twenty minutes he just starts goin' on and on about-"

* * *

"No."

"No?"

"Arnold, no, you cannot paint your bedroom the fugliest color in this history of the world. I cannot stand here, as your," he looked down at me with a curious expression, "friend." He didn't flinch, "and let you do that."

"Orange," he defended, holding the paint chip in his hand, "is not fugly. It's warm." He grabbed another swatch, a darker, more muted, orange. Still orange. "It's inviting," he showed her enthusiastically, paint swatches of various shades of orange stretched out in his hands. "Homey," he picked up his favorite, he hadn't said so but he held it with his thumb the most secure of the bunch, and tapped Helga's nose with it.

"Atrocious," She repeated in the same warm tone, tapping Arnold's cheek with her own blue swatch. She hated that she had to stand on her tippy toes to do it.

"Okay, fine, compromise:" Arnold told her, moving behind her so he could gesture to the paint chips in front of her. "I want orange," he held up a color swatch in his hand. "You want blue" he grabbed the swatch from her finger tips. "Put those together and you get…"

He reached out and grabbed a lovely sage color from the rack, soft and warm but cool enough to not reflect on anything. He had two chips in the hand he grabbed it with, so Helga plucked it from his hands.

"Green?" She mused, running her thumb over her hand. "I like green."

"Good," he set the other chips down, taking the green one from her, "it's settled." He kissed her temple. He was walking towards the counter before she could even really have a reaction to it. The worst part of it was that she didn't even know what gave a stronger implication, that, or the duffle bag full of stuff she had put in the back seat without comment.

* * *

Lila wasn't sure she could take one more of her speech communications class. Everyone in it was either an idiot or entirely too passionate. She was hidden under a text book, flipping through her phone, deciding what vice would distract her from the heated debate happening about abortion.

"Well, Jeff- that would be a good statistic, if it were actually supported by evidence. Perhaps Lila could look it up?"

She glanced up, face beet red as she realized she had been caught, entirely caught. She was thankful for it, in the moments after, when she looked down to actually google what he professor had asked her to, because she had been halfway through a text to Sid.

Another bullet dodged.

* * *

Sid pushed into the yogurt shop that night, it was a quiet evening, Helga working with a coworker who either wasn't talkative herself, or gave up on trying to get Helga to unravel a little bit.

"Hey Tic Tac," He announced broadly as the bell rang. "How's it hangin? How's the _love nest_?" Helga looked up, she was hunched over a table, face a little red from the exertion of scrubbing at it. She smiled, and Sid thought she looked lovely anyway.

"There is no _love nest_." She mocked his sing song-y tone, turning to wipe down a counter.

"I don't know," He glanced down at his phone, "Cass is pretty convinced there's a love nest." He sat on a table even though he knew she hated when he did that. She pretended not to notice, swinging back around the counter.

"I just don't feel like going home," She shrugged, "And as lovely as the floor of your dorm is…"

"So…" he changed the subject, "there is… _no_ love, in the love nest?"

She sighed. "Nada." She stretched her long limbs over the register, leaning on it heavily.

"Do you…want there to be?"

She sighed again. "I can't tell if I'm just bored and lonely or actually into him again."

He shrugged, "it's probably a mixture of both." He watched for her reaction, he wasn't able to read how she actually felt about the whole thing. Arnold was a good looking guy, she was good looking girl, and heck- none of them had a ton to do at the moment.

"I mean," Helga made a face that resembled a bit of distaste. "I really don't want to get feelings involved. Like. At all."

Sid nodded, "you do hate feelings."

"I do."

He waited again, a response not coming up immediately. So he chose to say nothing.

"If he wanted to get…physical… without the feelings, I probably wouldn't complain."

"I can't believe this is happening." Sid shook his head with disbelief. "This is wild."

"It's not wild, it's…" She frowned again, "sex, I guess."

"With your lifelon-" He paused, already able to tell he was pissing her off, because, truthfully, before he rearrived, she hadn't brought him up in just over three years. "With someone who used to be important to you."

"Christ, Sid-" She rolled her eyes, looking to the door, as if she wanted it to open, so she could stop talking about this, "you make me sound like the serpent of Eden. I do care for him, just don't want to…" She searched for the words she was looking for by glancing up at the ceiling as if they were written there "hold hands. And announce our courtship, and shit."

"And as far as courtship goes…did you still want it with, I mean, like, if she asked you-"

"Sid?"

"Yea?"

"Please shut the fuck up."

The air was still for a second.

"So…" he started, "did you like season two of Kimmy Schmidt?"

"Holy shit," The air was back to it's light, joking causality within seconds, "I almost peed myself laughing."

* * *

Gerald 11:09

Is Helga still there?

Arnold 11:12

yep.

Gerald 11:12

Have you made a move?

Arnold 11:13

nope.

Gerald 11:14

You're fucking crazy.

Arnold 11:15

We've only painted a half of a wall so far.

Have you seen the Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt on Netflix?

We started watching it last night, it's so funny!

Gerald 11:20

…do u know what netflix and chill is?

Arnold 11:23

I don't think so?

Gerald 11:25

good. stay pure.

Arnold 11:25

what?

Gerald 11:26

i'll explain when you're older.

Arnold 11:28

…I'm older than you!

* * *

Helga was sitting in his room the next morning, painting lazily as they chat about whether or not Kimmy Schmidt was mildly racially insensitive, instead of…actually painting the wall. Helga's arm was already starting to cramp, so when her phone rang she grinned, and picked it up eagerly. "Hey, Cass-" She answered easily, setting down the paintbrush she had been pretending to use for three quarters of an hour. Arnold glanced up curiously, but continued to tape along the one oddly shaped wall. "Whaddup."

"Not a lot," Cass answered easily. There was slight white noise behind her, Helga could tell she was outside. "Class is boring. What about you?"

"Painting is boring," she countered, laying on her back. "And my wrist hurts." She looked up, the sky was gray and cloudy that day.

"Painting?" Cass questioned. "Are you and Bob finally getting around to those home renovations?"

Helga snorted, noticing she had a little paint in the tips of her hair. She worked it out with her fingers. "No. I'm still at Arnold's."

"…still?"

"Yep."

"Have you…"

"Nope." She popped the p at the end of the word with a little attitude.

"Are you going to…"

"Are you going to stop with the third degree?" Helga interrupted Cass before she could finish her sentence.

"Helga," She could tell she had pushed it a little too far, Cass sounded mildly pissed off, "I'm just worried about this. It's been, like, four days. Are you going to go home tonight?"

"Doubtful."

"Helga, what is going on? Did Bob do something for real this ti-"

"I have to go," Helga interrupted again, feeling anxiety about all the questions swirl up in her chest. Arnold didn't ask questions. Helga loved that about him. "Paint related emergency."

"Helga, this is bullshit and you kno-"

"Talk later, love you- byyyye." She drawled out, snapping her phone shut with a huff. She crawled over to where Arnold was knelt down, taping out a section with care, and pretending not to listen to her phone call. "My friend are annoying me, and painting is boring, distract me." She whined, setting her head on his knee.

He glanced down at her, raised his eyebrows with a smirk, and continued to put the blue painter's tape on the wall.

"Ew," She sat up hastily, ignoring the jump her heart had at the implication of the look. "You're gross."

"Helga," he said tiredly, rubbing a hand between his eyebrows, "you were in my _lap_."

"Ugh," she groaned, falling on his bed dramatically, "why does everyone on earth suck except for me," She pitied herself into the mattress. Arnold laughed behind her.

"What a terrible burden."

"It's _awful_ ," She teased back.

* * *

"Hey, man-" it was a Wednesday mid-morning, Sid thought he might be a little high, and Gerald was settling into the seat next to him. It was a massive lecture hall, Sid had no idea Gerald was even in the class, but there he was- and choosing to sit next to Sid. "Whaddup?" Gerald asked casually, grabbing a notebook from his backpack before tucking it under his chair.

"Not a lot," Sid gave a great effort to be as casual as Gerald. He was probably floundering in it, but it was still a great attempt.

"Yo, man," Gerald told him, "I almost hit this fool in the parking lot, he was tryna' do this dumb-ass skateboard nonse-" Gerald was talking to him like they were friends. Like that was what they did, sat next to each other in classes and talked about dumb people. Like he did with Helga and Cass.

He was so distracted by it, that even when Gerald's story stopped because the teacher began, he could barely focus. It had been so long since Sid had to make friends he had kind of forgotten how. He took notes but minutes before class was up he realized they were nonsensical.

"dirt people- gilmosjhep whatever, look up in text. man needs money. do money need man? prob. gerald- basketball?" the last bit was scribbled out, "i hate this. friends: helga, cass, gerald? arnold!? note to self: pitch western civ not necessity, instead class on obama family history. i love michelle. gerald- what. do llamas get sunburned on that skin-part of their nose? google." He read through it, snapping out of his daze, realizing he hadn't paid a lick of attention to an hour and a half long class.

"Hey," Gerald stood up before Sid did when class was over. "Wanna get lunch? I've got like, two hours before next class."

"Yea-" Sid nodded, "and, I'm gonna be real here, that guy's voice is so monotone I can't process anything, so you're gonna need to explain this all to me again."

Gerald laughed. "I can…try, man. Let's just read the text book."

Sid grinned, making to follow Gerald out of the hall, when he paused to check for the text his phone buzzed to let him know was there. He assumed it was the usual suspects, but blinked with surprise at the single L in the contact box- what he had drunkenly put under Lila's number the weekend prior.

L 12:12

hey

what are you doing tonight?

He could have fainted right there.

* * *

 _a/n i'm done the job i hate! *celebratory sirens ringing*_

 _which means i can update faster for this and everyhting else! *more sirens!*_

 _lol thank god tho, it was eatin me alive. i struggle with this one tho... and all theses feelings and how they *clutches fist* feel. ajifidaks idk teenagers its all hard. but there's still...a lot to come w/ this one so hang on for the ride!_

 _also. on a completely unrelated note, *might get boring if ur not into this kind of thing, pls just ignore- not really related to the fic u just read!*  
_ _im working on something new (i know, screw me right) but its filling my #drama quota while i work on fluffier pieces.  
_ _I'm working on a unreliable narrators, end of the world, apocalypse, ensemble piece for the crew i always work with lol. probably even more of an ensemble piece than this is, because h/a still remain the ...focus of it all, even though its about friendship and everyone else too. this one would probably pay equal parts attention. anyway, here's the thing y'all- i'm kind of lowkey over writing h/a the way we normally see them start out, either haven't seen each other in a while, old friends that never happened, or like...bickering but everyone knows they're secretly into each other? u know what i mean? i feeel like it's always those three- likely because if u work thru possible scenarios, those three are tbh the most likely. theyd definitely end together bc #meanttobe, but if i were to flesh out and publish the aforementioned fic, which do u think would be more interesting? either dating & already a stable couple...in an apocolaypse. or full out, fucking..cannot stand each other, like not in a cutesy cat and mouse way, in a i actually do not like you way. let me know if u have thoughts or opinions on the whole idea, and ill see you guys soon!_

 _love u all very much- let me know your thoughts on what you thinks comin up! its a ride, lol._


	14. Chapter 14

Gerald was knee deep in a story about the first party of the year, which Sid really should have been at, anyway. Sid was a cool dude. Sid scrubbed a hand through his ridiculously long hair, all the way to his chin, and pushed it to the side.

"Like, who the fuck brings their cat to a party?"

Sid laughed, shoveling another fork full of pasta into his mouth. He shook his head.

"Well, anyway- the cat is covered in food coloring, which is like, meant to color food, not color animals- and the girl, Kacee, she comes out of a room with her boyfriend, which, you know" he winked at Sid, "and she starts screa-"

"Are you telling this story again, babe?" Mari appeared by his shoulder out of nowhere. Well, not nowhere, because he texted her and told her where he was, but still. Her hair was tucked into two separate buns on top of her head. She leaned down and kissed his temple, before dropping her stuff and sitting next to him.

Gerald flicked one of her buns "cute," he mused, grabbing a loose curl by her ear and tugging on it, "I like it."

"Thanks," She smiled. "Well, go on, I like the ending." She placed her chin in a immaculately manicured hand, as if she were actually interested in a story she'd heard _at least_ thirty times.

"Right, so- she's screaming, and someone then spills a beer, and then it gets on the cat- who like, does the cat in water thing, and completely seizes up- and then bolts, right through the open porch door."

"And so," Mariella interrupted, "we all ended up spending the night as a cat search party."

"But the cat came back! And the girl didn't tell nobody- so we were all looking for a cat that wasn't lost!"  
They finished the story together in a laugh, Sid chuckling into his plate. Gerald caught his eyes flicking back to his android phone, which he had up on the table.

"Man: just text her back," Gerald advised with a roll of his eyes. He bit into his sandwich "she obviously is interested if she j-" A gentle hand was on his chin, and he looked over. Mariella was giving him a look akin to one his mother would give him, reminding him to chew, swallow, then talk, he obliged.

"Now while he's not bein' rude," Mariella said while he did that, "tell me about this girl, what's the situation."

Sid sighed. "Okay, so," he ruffled his hair again. Gerald noticed for the first time the few sparse bracelets around his wrist, one just seemed to be plain leather, "I've known this girl for…like, years. And she's always been like, hella nice. And so, she and I ended up going out to look for Helga together last weekend, which was…" he made eye contact with Gerald.

Gerald smirked.

"…yeah," Sid fiddled with his pasta, stirring it around, "and like, I totally admit, we were way too trashed. And both of us when we woke up kind of thought we might have hooked up, but the last like, hour of our night, never came back to me. And just like, side note: this girl is so out of my league."

"Sid," Gerald chastised, "that ain't true."

"Do I know this girl?" Mari scooted forward with interest. Gerald rolled his eyes, but with a small smile on his face, his girlfriend was a first class meddler.

"Maybe?" Gerald answered. "Name's Lila, she's tall-ish, got red hair, we were kind of friends in high school."  
Mari thought on it, "name's ringing a bell, but I can't get a picture in my mind. So jury's out on that out of the league thing, anyway, continue-" She gestured to Sid.

"Anyway-" Sid did continue, "she texted me about what I'm doing tonight, and I just." He dropped his phone on the table again. "I don't want to get my hopes up."

"I don't know, baby-" Mari was popping open her salad while she spoke. "If you asked me, I would guess that she's into you. But every girl is different." She shook a little vinaigrette onto her salad, "come hang out with us, and invite her."

"Yea-" Gerald enthused, looking from his girlfriend to Sid, "yea! Do that."

"That way you'll look like you have plans-"

"But that you're still interested!" Gerald finished for her, excited again.

Sid was squinting curiously at them, but nodded anyway. "Alright," he spoke slowly, like he wasn't sure himself, "I guess I can do that."

sid 1:44

hanging out with gerald & co.

wanna come

?

* * *

Sid didn't know why he was nervous to send such an innocent text, but he was. Or maybe he was just perplexed at why he had plans with Gerald that night now, without any Helga involved or attached. But then again, he and Gerald used to hangout by default all the time at football. It was almost stranger that he associated Gerald and Helga with each other in his mind than it was to be spending time with him.

And, if Sid could be honest with himself, he could use more than just…two friends. Especially some that were guys. He watched him wipe some excess dressing off his girlfriend's, who he was calling Bun Bun in his head, arm. He was wondering if he could get Gerald to work out with him a little when his phone buzzed with a response.

L 1:50

sure!

He didn't know he could be so enthralled by a one word text, but Gerald caught the look on his face the second he opened it.

"Aw man," He knocked his shoulder into Bun Bun, "we got a yes, Mari- look at that smile."

She grinned at him, her teeth were so white they alarmed him. "So, it was a yes?"

He nodded, fiddling with his phone again, sheepishly, "yea, yea I did." He felt his face heating up, so he looked around for a change of subject, so that could stop…imeaditely, "so your name is Mari? Good, because I was worried I would never know and then accidentally call you Bun Bun out loud which I just did so that didn't work, god, that's embarrassing-"

She cut off his ramble with a hand and a smile, "Bun Bun?" She questioned, giggling a little. "I like it, maybe I should keep it."

"You know," Sid diverted again, "I've been told I have a knack for nick names."

"Okay," Gerald clicked his phone shut, shoving it back in his pocket, "Jake's joining us too, so the gang's all set!"

"Aw, that's good," Mari mixed her salad together with her fork, "I haven't seen Jake in a while, miss him."

Sid was then listening, but not really, because hanging out? With Stinky?

It panicked him maybe more than it should have.

* * *

helga 4:12

hey

sid 4:15

heyyyy

helga 4:18

wyd?

wanna come over and pretend to paint with me.

sid 4:21

actually I'm about to go hang out with some people.

helga 4:22

…really?

…who?

sid 4:24

don't sound so surpirsed.

helga 4:25

i didn't mean to, I'm sorry.

sid 4:30

lol its ok.

gerald, lila, mari, jake.

do you guys want to come?

i don't really know what we're doing.

i don't know what one does at these functions.

helga 4:32

eh. not really.

that many people at once exhausts me.

have fun, tho!

sid 4:34

kay, text you about it later.

Helga laughed a little, the absolute absurdity of it all, tossing her phone down on the kitchen table. The boarding house was, not for a lack of love, falling apart. One of the cabinet doors was completely off it's hinges, and sat rested up against the sink. Arnold was using a pan that was more stained than anything else, humming quietly as he did a stir fry of some assortment of meat and vegetables.

"What's so funny?" He asked, tossing a look over his shoulder.

"Sid, Lila, Gerald, his girlfriend, and Stinky are all hanging out tonight. Which probably isn't that funny to you, but it's hilarious to me." She pushed up off the table to stand next to him by the stove. Their entire eating and sleeping schedule was so messed up, this was lunch for them, because they hadn't woken up until 11. She shut her eyes and leaned her head on the cabinet. "Everything is so upside down right now."

"Or," Arnold countered, grabbing a spoon off the counter, "could it be things are finally back to being right side up?" He scooped out some of the concoction in the pan and tried it, "Mm-" he hummed, "yea- this is done," he announced, setting the spoon back down on the counter. He was flipping off the heat while Helga picked it back up, scooping out some for herself.

"Whoa-" he interrupted, grabbing her wrist, "careful, baby, it's ho-" he stopped, catching himself on his choice of words, dropping his hold on her. He glanced at her nervously.

She had the spoon in her mouth already, and she grinned as she took it out, "seems just fine to me, _Footballhead_ ," she knew she had a coy little smirk on her face as she brushed past him. She trotted up the stairs, enjoying knowing he was probably watching her go, but her mind was actually still on his words.

Maybe everything _was_ back to being right side up.

* * *

sid 5:12

hey guys

cass 5:12

roger

helga 5:13

whaddup?

sid 5:15

this is going to sound sooooo dumb and i know it but

do you think it'll be like

weird

hanging out with stinky & stuff

helga 5:16

a week ago i youlda said yea but

you're gonna be fine kiddo

cass 5:16

why r u?

sid 5:17

bc of gerald

cass 5:17

…ur hanging out with gerald?

helga 5:20

we can come if u want sid

i know u haven't hung out w/ them without us

& we'll do it if u want us to

sid 5:22

gahhh ill be fine

u n arnold enjoy ur night

cass 5:25

god shit has gotten weird while I've been gone

* * *

The sun kept setting earlier and earlier. It felt like the day had barely begun, but patterns of red and gold were stretching out across his bedroom, signaling the end of the day. Helga was sitting on his bed, looking up at it. Arnold had managed to paint two walls, and hoped to knock out another while she was at work the next morning. She was just…distracting from the task at hand.

She was even distracting him now, by just sitting there and staring out his skylight. Some leaves had caught in it- tired and brown, sticking together in a cluster.

"What," Arnold asked her, finally acknowledging that he was in fact staring at her.

"Nothing," she replied with the smallest shrug of her shoulders. Her eyes stayed on the cluster of leaves.

"Okay," he responded softly. They were in one of their quiet moments, after spending nearly a week together, he found they were necessary. He had a book open on his lap- a written version of a podcast who's popularity he completely missed while away. He was still finding it impossible to focus, with Helga only a few feet a way, her long neck elongated towards the sky, her hair almost golden in the dimming light.

"She never liked the fall, you know?" She mused quietly. Her tone was mellow, sad, even. She spoke like she had wanted him to pick up on something sooner than he did. He did that often. He observed everything about her- he could just never put the pieces in their slots. "I know it's not the reason she left, but I kind of wonder if it had something to do with it." She kept her eyes on the sky.

He sat up, looking at her once again, tucking the corner of page of his book down and setting it beside him. He didn't know what to say, so he said "do you want to sit outside?" At least it would give him time to think of a response.

* * *

They were sitting in the Gerald's dorm's lounge, joined by a few sparse passer-byers, all discussing various classes and professors and other things that no one particularly cared about. Sid was leaning on the back of the couch, directly behind Lila's red-ass hair, Gerald watched his hands twitch. This was a different Sid than the one he hung out with at Arnold's house, at lunch. Gerald stared at him, in his long sleeve, light blue shirt, remembering how parties that he frequented weren't exactly Sid's, or his friend's, style in high school. He didn't exactly know what their style was, but it wasn't his own.

Gerald surveyed the group, finding the source for Sid's apparent anxiety evident. Three football players, two cheerleaders, one ex-cheerleader, one Mari- who wasn't particularly anything but her own brand of cool. One Sid. No Helga, certainly no Cassidy.

Gerald watched Sid lick his lips, and then suddenly, he seemed to pick up that he was being watched. He looked up at Gerald, tilting his head to the side as if to ask why Gerald was watching him. The more time Gerald spent with the man, the more he reminded him of a puppy. Gerald raised an eyebrow, and then his own hand as an okay symbol- an inquiry if Sid was doing okay.

Sid frowned, nodded, and showed his own okay symbol.

Gerald put his down, and winked, hoping it said what his mind thought, 'cool out man, everyone here thinks you're cool, and if they don't, we don't give a fuck about them anyway.'

Sid furrowed his eyebrows for only half a moment, before shrugging, sitting on the back of the couch, and sliding down so his back hit the cushion. "ALRIGHT," he announced loudly, "this is boring as fuck," he poked Lila in the thigh, "anyone wanna build a human pyramid or see if we can steal all the lightbulbs on this floor?"

Their newcomers were giving Sid a wary look, and Gerald pretended not to notice that Stinky was watching him, waiting to mimic his reaction.

Gerald was surprised by the bark of laughter that came from his right, Mari perched on the arm of his chair.

"Thank God _somebody_ said it-" she chortled, that was the only word Gerald had to describe it. It was throaty and deep and surprise out of that little body. Gerald loved ever millisecond of it, "but we need one more person for a structurally sound pyramid!"

Gerald knew Sid didn't notice what he noticed as he started to ramble into what the shape of their pyramid could be, or that it would be funnier if they did it to scare people. Sid was probably too invested in the leaned in shoulders of Gerald's team mates, Jeff and Matt, Gerald's smile spreading to their own. But Lila had leaned into Sid's touch, she wrinkled her nose and made eye contact with Mari, and shook her head, giggling all the while.

Mari poked his thigh and leaned down to whisper in his ear.

"He's got her."

* * *

The rooftop was louder than he remembered it being. He couldn't believe he hadn't been back up there yet. All bird squawking and traffic noises and the hum of the people wandering below them. The first thing she did was wiggle free the wet hoard of leaves, letting them flutter loose in the wind.

"She hated being cold." Helga explained as she situated herself, lying back on the tile, one foot off the edge of the building, the other tucked up. "That was really the whole thing about it, cold meant more clothes and less skin, cold meant hot coffee instead of iced and scarves instead of sunglasses."

Arnold doubted he was supposed to say anything, so he laid down next to her, crossing his hands on his stomach.

"I guess I really shouldn't have been surprised when she said she was moving to California, I guess what I really should have been surprised about was the guy." She shut her eyes. Only half of her head was illuminated now, the sky fading into more of a yellow tone. "Olga had had bad taste before, sure. Actually…" She snorted, "she had absolute garbage taste." Her eyes were open again, she stared straight up.

She took a deep breath. "God, I hope she's okay."

Arnold didn't know what to say, so he waited. Waited for either the words to come or for Helga to keep talking, whichever came first.

"The wedding was in the spring of 8th grade. She was so happy, so happy she wouldn't listen. To anyone. It had happened before, actually, but that time…"

She had a weird look on her face, a cross between a grin and a grimace.

"That time I meddled. But this one…" she squinted at the sky, "he had a grip on her like no one ever has. They had the wedding, and then they were gone. She came home for one Christmas. I was only fifteen, so naturally…" She, for the first time, tilted her head to the side, and looked at him. "I convinced myself it was my fault. I had wished she would go away so many times…" She shook her head. "It was my fault Olga left, it was my fault Mom had to go to rehab, it was my fault beepers became technologically obsolete." She laughed a little, "you know, because 10 year old me invented the iPhone." She had turned completely on her side, gray hoodie swallowing her alive. Her long blonde hair fell in pools on the tiles.

"I remember that," he propped himself up on his elbow. "We were in…5th grade?"

She exhaled. Arnold didn't even notice she was holding her breath. "Yep." She flopped on to her stomach, turning her head to face him as she placed her ear on folded arms.

"Miriam was drunk for most of my adolescence. She got smashed at the wedding. Like… trashed. She told me, after she came back, that the day after, when she couldn't wake up to kiss Olga goodbye, that was when they decided she needed to go to rehab. She started in fall of my freshman year. That was when we lost the house, even though Bob had a new job, we ended up in a much smaller house. Just the two of us, for six months. I avoided him, he avoided me. It was…okay. Really. It was."

"That was when I met _Cass_ , that was when I desperately needed new friends." Arnold hadn't met Cassidy, but he felt like he had, if only by understanding the twinkle in Helga's voice when she brought her up.

Arnold itched, ached to know why she and Gerald got in that fight that he had heard so much about. He wanted to know, so badly, exactly why they just started yelling at each other. He knew it wasn't the time, he just questioned whether or not there would be a time.

"And then mom came home and…I don't know," she smiled blithely, "things were good for a while. For a year, actually… and then she…hit the bottle again. So, there was Jake, who made everything impossibly worse." She shut her eyes, "God, he was such a bad decision." She sighed, but reopened them, "it was my junior year and Cass had a car and Jake had a bike and I couldn't stand to be home…so I never was." She gave the tiniest shake of her head she could without lifting it. "And then there was that summer Bob came to get me from Cass's house, because I had been there for…weeks. He barreled in, a bull _dozer_ in a china shop, and yelled at her _Dad_ and yelled at me, and then asked me if I even knew that mom was going back to rehab. And…I didn't," She paused again, "and he said what I already knew he thought, that my lack of commitment to the family was the reason it fell apart. And I And I believed him, that son of a bi-" Words were no longer coming calmly, she was speaking in fiery tones, harsh flames tumbling out of her mouth.

"Hey-" Arnold stopped her, laying his free hand on her shoulder, "you know it's not, right?"

"I do…now," she answered solemnly. She shut her eyes, looking almost peaceful, laying there, stretched out on her arms. Arnold brought his hand up and rested it on the side of her head, thumb swiping at her hair.

It was dark out, and he hadn't even noticed.

He wanted to hold her- or do anything to feel more useful. But nothing he could do in that moment would have changed the past, so he just left his hand there, making star patterns by her ear with his thumb. He adjusted his other hand, lying down on his arm instead of being propped up on his elbow.

Then he just let her breathe.

* * *

Lila declared before she was building a human _anything_ she was going to need sweatpants, and decidedly trotted down her hall to get some. "So," a voice had followed her down the hall, quick footsteps catching up to her. Lila turned around to see Gerald's girlfriend following her. "Are you into him?"

Mariella was wearing baggy jogger-typed sweatpants, and a gray crop top, thin sliver of skin showing in between them. Lila thought for a moment that she wanted to be wearing something like that, but she owned absolutely nothing of the kind. She was so busy thinking about her outfit that she forgot to answer the question.

"Who?" She replied, opening her cracked door to see her roommate on her own bed, book on her lap.

"Hey!" Mariella greeted her, "wanna build a human pyramid?"

"A human…what?" McKenzie stuttered. Mari laughed, shaking her head.

"And you _know_ who," She directed at Lila. She crossed her arms, leaning back on Lila's wall by her desk, giving her a mock-disapproving look. McKenzie, apparently not very interested with the pyramid thing, returned to her book without another word.

Lila _knew_ exactly _who_ but didn't have an answer herself.

"Oh," she rooted through her dresser under her bed, "I don't know! Like, maybe?" She extracted a pair of grey sofee shorts and decided that that would have to do, pulling out a pink v-neck to add to her casual attire. She signaled for Mari to shut the door, then whipped off her shirt. This phased neither McKenzie nor Mari, who sat on his bed.

"Well, that's a perfectly valid answer," she picked at under her fingernails, "it ain't a police investigation, I was just curious."

Lila processed her own thoughts while wiggling into her shots, Mari pointedly faced in the other direction. She then flopped down on the bed next to her.

"I don't know," Lila sounded a little whiny but she didn't really care at the moment, "it's been so long since I've done this…I feel so disconnected with being a girl." She put her face into her pillows, her many, many pillows. "A girl with feelings." She mumbled, tossing one that was sparkly and not at all comfortable to the floor, "and why do I have so many damn pillows?"

"Because you're a girl with feelings," McKenzie answered calmly without poking her head up from her text.

"I'm just lookin' out for him," Mariella told her honestly, rubbing a hand on her ankle, "I met him like, t-minus 6 hours ago and I'm already fond of him."

Lila rolled over, a small smile directed at the god-awful ceiling tile, "yea-" she hummed quietly, "I think he just has that effect on people."

Mari rolled her eyes, picked up a furry white pillow, and smacked Lila in the stomach with it "' _I don't know'_ my ass," she mocked. She was laughing as she stood up.

"What?" Lila sat up, defending herself poorly, face reddening and grin soaking through her words, "I don't!"

"Yea, yea _Juliet_ , let's go, before the boys get bored and start taking out lightbulbs," She grinned and offered her a hand up.

Lila was beaming as she accepted it, hopping to her feet, for two reasons. One, because the concept of a human pyramid ominously awaiting drunk people returning to their dorms did truly sound funny. Two, because as she linked arms with Mari on the way out, it felt to her like she had made a true, honest-to-God, _girlfriend_.

* * *

They went to bed early, coming straight off the roof and tucking in. It was strange, because normally they fell asleep in odd assortments, Helga curled up on the couch and Arnold sprawled across the bed, or Arnold lying on the bean bag chair they found at Goodwill, Helga propped up oddly on the bed. They had never properly tucked in, making the conscious choice to sleep together- in an innocent sense. But that's what they did, they sorted out the comforter, which was a crumpled wreck, and laid down next to each other, not necessarily avoiding direct contact, but not pushing it either.

Helga woke from a buzz in her phone, and she was so warm and comfortable that she thought about ignoring it, but she didn't.

sid 2:12

do you guys have plans friday.

helga 2:15

nothing specific.

sid 2:16

don't make any.

helga 2:17

oh god.

When she rolled over to go back to sleep, Arnold was propped up, looking at her.

"What?" He asked with a bemused smirk at her annoyed expression. He was barely lit up from the light of the t.v. they left on.

"Evidently, we have plans Friday night."

sid 2:20

does arnold have a toaster

"With Sid, and apparently a toaster."

He laughed, and shoved his face in a pillow, "fantastic," he muttered.

And Helga, most certainly, did not find it sexy as fuck.

Not at all.

* * *

Sid had had an excellent time that night, and landed himself an invitation to a party on Friday, which he passed onto Helga, because it all really would have been more fun if she were there. The night had only gotten funnier when the second person they scared had demanded to join, and then they were outside, starting an enormous human pyramid. They had 42 people involved, and were trying to do a weight breakdown of who was biggest so they could go for a world record, until an R.A. came outside, ruined the fun, and also told them that the world's biggest one had three hundred people, ergo- not reachable in a night.

On the bright side, there was now a Break the Human Pyramid World Record event on the school's Facebook group, with 129 people attending, so that was cool.

He was also sitting with an attractively pink-faced Lila in the lounge, and that was cool too.

She was lying stretched out on the couch, he sat on the floor in front of her, telling her about the time he, Cass, Helga and this one weirdo named AJ accidentally stole an Irish American family's flag from their front lawn- and it was a _complete_ accident. She was giggling and looking at him with bright eyes and he couldn't take it a second longer, her red hair flopping partially over her face.

"Hey," Sid blurted out, "I have a question and maybe it's awkward but I can't really care right now, do you think it's crazy to think I have a chance with you?"

She looked at him, impossible to read, large eyes staring back and forth in between his. "Sid," replied, then set her head down on her arms, "I think we're all a little crazy right now."

"What did you say?" He asked loudly.

She laughed into her arms, but he only nudged her with his fingertips, "no, I'm dead serious, I didn't hear you, what did you sa-"

She could only laugh harder.

Sid didn't actually get an answer by the time he stumbled back to his dorm, but he could still hear her laughter ringing in his ears, and he smiled, as he collapsed on his bed.

* * *

Helga woke up to 14 texts from Sid that day, which meant after work, she would be hanging out with Sid. She told Arnold this as she ate an apple, sitting on one of the chairs, tying her shoe. He shrugged, and said he wouldn't go any farther in American Horror Story without her. His bread popped out of the toaster, and he was buttering it nonchalantly when he said.

"Are you gonna come home after?"

And it was like someone reached in and plucked all of the oxygen out of the room.

It hadn't mattered that she hadn't slept somewhere else in five days- referring to it as a home made it an all too real kind of finality in their lives, something unescapable.

She wanted to make fun of, wanted to do something that made the last twelve hours less weird, but the tension between them had been rising like the current in a rainstorm and it was drowning her.

"I don't know," she stood up. He obviously didn't know what to say- he always made the same face when he didn't know what to say.

"Okay, well…" he bit into his toast, "are you ready to g-" he was already reaching for his keys.

"I think I'll walk," Helga interrupted, knowing it was at least twenty minutes and not caring anyway, even if she was late. She trotted down the steps, and pretended not to hear him slam his keys back on the counter.

* * *

Sid knew when he came to walk Helga back to U that she was in a Right Mood. He could tell but the way she clicked her buttons on the screen, the half assed braid her hair was in- she had probably taken out and redone it several times. She fidgeted when she was upset. Sid also knew Helga well enough to know when to ask and when not to, and it was a not to. He walked with her and tried his damnedest not ramble about Lila.

By the time they were twenty minutes into the board game they used to play with Cass, that they now played with asinine rules and arbitrary proceedings, she was panting with laughter. Sid was currently insisting that whomever rolled the next four had to do a lap around the dorm hall, but as a crab having a panic attack. His cheeks were tinged with pink, he pushed the hair back from his eyes, you could clearly see his hounds teeth, he did this all when he was _particularly_ amused.

Helga took the bet, not because she thought it was particularly funny, but because she well and truly adored Sid.

Sid lost his own bet, naturally, and took it upon himself to greet every person that he passed with a mix of a heavy Scottish and Irish accent, asking if they had any kippers.

After taking a particular long time to make bizarre crab/leprechaun noises while poking at his R.A's door, he did a forward roll back into his dorm room, and thanked God his roommate wasn't home that night.

Helga was wheezing when he stood up, and he instinctually opened his arms up. She jumped into them, chest still shaking with laughter.

"There-" he set her down, swiping a thumb at the tear-track on her face, "that's better."

She hiccuped, still giggling, face pink and teary and somehow still fetching to Sid, "don't flatter yourself," she wiggled back from him, frosty sarcasm not believable in the slightest.

"Do you wanna stay here tonight?"

Helga shook her head, and with it, shook out the last bit of laugh, "no- no, I think I'm good," she wiped her face again.

* * *

The front door of the Boarding House, and damn it all if that weren't awkward as fuck. She took a hazy glance at the fire escape, making to turn around to head for her own house. Before deciding, fuck it, that window was never locked anyway, and she scaled the side of the house, just like she loved to do to get into her own home in high school.

Arnold, the lunk, didn't wake up as she lowered herself into the room, careful to step around him, despite the massive bed that now resided in the space the some-what loft used to be.

All of her favorite clothes were there, anyway.

She was, in the black of night, illuminated only by the city above them, shimmying into some sweatpants, instead of risking opening the door to head to the bathroom.

Arnold sat up abruptly, panicked for a moment, before dark eyes registered her.

"Helga?" A soft smile crept up on his lips. "You came back."

"Yea, well," she thrust back the cover for her side of the bed, "my favorite pants were here, and I don't feel like heading back now, so don't flatter yourself, Footballhead." She faced decidedly in the other direction, shoving her elbow under the pillow, ignoring Arnold's gaze on her shoulder blades. She tried to lose herself in the sheets, in the draft of the window, in her mind: in anything that wasn't _him_.

"Whatever you say, Helga," he whispered fondly.

* * *

Gerald laughed when he opened his phone that morning and had 32 notifications from Facebook, from people inquiring about this human pyramid event, and physics students offering to figure out the trajectory. The picture for the event, set by Mari, was a photo of Gerald holding a triumphant Sid on one shoulder, mid-victory screech, while Gerald's other hand was held high in a fist at the sky- as if they'd already done it. You could just make out the corner of Lila's laughing face.

He was surprised by the emotion he had as he rolled out of bed, setting his feet on the chilled floor, suddenly thankful for Sid, and therefore…

Thankful…for Helga G. Pataki.

* * *

"Helga," he spoke like it was a sneeze- a cross between completely unintentionally and with deliberate intention. He could have smacked himself for it. They had woken up barely 15 minutes ago, Helga was responding to a text from Sid, ensuring her safety in getting…well, somewhere.

"Yea, Footballhead?" She scratched a hand through the bun she had hastily put on her head.

Something about it all, them waking up next to each other, the hazing light illuminating Helga's golden hair, the way her eyebrows were beginning to grow together, the way he knew she scrunched her face up to get herself to wake up, instead of rubbing at it like everyone else. He couldn't figure out what exactly it was, whether it was the old sweatshirt Helga was wearing that said Football on it, or the way she looked lovely in it anyway, or how she put it on before bed, knowing the damn window and the damn draft. It wasn't the domesticity of it all, or the exciting bit of newness, it was somewhere in between it all.

Arnold was just kind of... _done_ with playing games.

* * *

"Look," she heard him shuffling towards her on the bed, she tensed. "About this party…"

"What of it?" She, for some reason, wished she had gum to pop. She tucked a foot under her, pretending to pay him no attention, despite actually kind of wanting attention. She didn't understand how she herself worked sometimes.

"Well," he set his feet on the floor, "the last time you and I had alcohol we kind of…" He was walking back and forth in front of her now.

"We kind of what, Arnold?" She didn't have a reason for being so low-key bitchy, even inside of herself. She didn't want to admit she was pushing him to talk, but maybe that's exactly what she was doing. "I don't remember anything," She leaned forward, mocking shock and awe, "PG-13" she whispered. He stopped pacing in front of her. She pretended she was innocent- like this all was angry tension, and not the exact kind of tension she _knew it was_.

"Helga," He gave her a flat look.

"You're the one who _started_ this conversa-"

"Look, all I'm trying to say is that I _don't think_ it's best if we-"

"And frankly, I'd appreciate if you'd get the hell on with wha-" she was talking over him because she wasn't sure how to react to what he was saying. It was immature, sure, but no one promised she be a regular Mother Theresa.

"Because, I really do respect you a lot more than getting drunk and admit-"

"Because, I, for one, have not a fucking clue what you're on abo-"

"And we're both adults here and I think we can both admit to-"

"I mean, I was just _sitting here_ and you start goin' all angelic sobriety on _me_ -"

" _Helga_ ," he knelt down, and firmly put his hand on her knee.

" _What_ , Footballhead?!" She bit back bitterly, crossing her arms.

"I'm going to kiss you now, if that's okay with you."

"You're going to, if I- _what_!?" She spluttered, pushing her arms so they propped herself up behind her. She was certain she would have fallen flat on her back if she hadn't. She looked everywhere but him- the three quarters painted wall behind her, her pile of clothes in the corner of the couch, upwards towards the lights on the ceiling they hadn't flipped on yet.

"Is that okay with you?" He repeated calmly.

"I mean-" she felt her right hand moving of it's own will, sassy hand gesture born from thin air, she talked to the sky, "I guess, if that'll make you _happy_ , Foot-"

"Good," He leaned up, grabbed her waist.

She, finally, looked at him.

And he kissed her.

Hard.

* * *

And he could tell you, right off the bat- it wasn't anything like Middle School.

Her body curled forward into his, one arm going over his shoulder, one hand on his cheek. He had one hand on her lowerback, one on her thigh, but he wasn't able to process anything like where his hands were, because she had just nibbled on his lip and there wasn't so much Helga's hand or his knee, but mores their bodies and the space between them, which he needed their to be less of, and fuck- why did he do this _sitting down_?

And before she thoroughly melted into his skin, she pushed back, hands at his shoulders, "hey-" she warned quietly, Arnold tried to ignore the flushed cheek and the pink looking lips- keep his eyes on hers. He felt her hand twitch by his sides, he could feel his own heartbeat in his chest."We're not catching feelings here, okay?"

He laughed, and tried to lean in again, "okay.."

She evaded him again, bouncing to the side. "I mean it, bucko- we can't start holding couples karaoke nights or, god forbid," She looked serious as she prayed, flipping her feet out so they touched the floor, " _holding hands_. We're just two friends, who _happen_ to be hot, who want to make out? Okay?" He was laughing again, watching her have her dialogue with herself, wiggling to mimic her position, feet on the floor, "okay." She replied to herself. "So, we don't kiss in public and we sit here and our friends _definitely_ cannot know, not that we have group friends, Sid can't know-"

"Helga," he interrupted again, grabbing her chin and gently turning it to face his, "it is very hard to kiss a person who's talking."

Helga looked affronted at first, mouth slightly, small bead of spit sitting on her bottom lip. He watched her eyes go from his lips, back to his eyes, and her mouth curled into a devilish grin.

"Aw," she exhaled harshly, "fuck it," she wrapped his arms around his neck, going fiendishly for his mouth again. Instinctually, he grabbed her back, and under her thigh, sliding her closer to him, her long limbs splayed out over his legs.

And Arnold, heart full to burst already, had his condition only worsened, by the unmistakable feeling of her smile under every kiss.

And it made every moment of it better.

* * *

cass 2:19

helgs

have u gone home yet

helga 2:21

… no

cass 2:21

it's friday.

helga 2:22

.

?

cass 2:23

you've been there all week!

helga 2:23

.

?

cass 2:24

…are you going to?

helga 2:25

you know, he still hasn't texted.

i mean, i wasn't expecting a missing person's report.

but like…maybe a text.

cass 2:28

to be fair, baby, you did do this with jake too.

and me, come to think of it.

helga 2:39

jake and arnold are nothing alike.

cass 2:39

i know!

i know.

but…

spend an expanded amount of time at someone's house?

with no warning or explanation?

you can't say you haven't done that before.

helga 2:46

…

goodnight, cass.

cass 2:48

helga, come on.

i haven't been gone that long

i know it's like 3 o clock.

* * *

 _a/n wheewww what a chapter. i almost dont even have words to write an encap. ill just leave this with a note of gratitude: thank you so , so much if u leave reviews. it makes my heart fly & also lets me into an outside perspective. i only have one set of eyes. i know it only takes a moment, but thank u from the bottom of me heart, i wish i were better at knowing what to say to respond to them individually. let me know what u think about recent developments, and trust me...we have further to go than u think ;))_

 _i've finally started to manage to branch out...the teeniest, tiniest bit, on tumblr. ps118daily if you're interested in my midday thoughts on h.g. pataki ;)_

 _love u all v much. thank u. xx_

 _-k._


	15. Chapter 15

_a/n helloo i never put these up here. it's taken me forever to get anything out. ive been trying to finish one ting and it keeps not being right so i think im going to redo a whole section of it (r i p its been so long since its been updated.) btu thats beside the point of this fic._

 _anyway this chapter is lowkey v special to me but i do talk about mental illness at the end. its the last chunk of it & i feel the need to give some kind of warning there but there's nothing gory or...anything like that about it. i am glad that it finally kind of...made its way into this fic bc ive been hinting at it in ways that i feel like i only really understand thru the duration of it. also: i describe character as perhaps more sexually promiscuous than expected & there's a bit of /fade to blacking/ going on in this. again, if you know the teenagers of today, this isnt exactly uncommon, but. yeah. i do not understand ff 's rating standards. tell me if i need to switch the rating to M i really do not have any idea._

 _anyway- onward!_

* * *

Sid and Gerald were, for some reason, elected to get the drunchies. Or, the drunk munchies. Or, the food you wouldn't normally touch with a ten foot pole but was practically filet mignon when you were drunk. In that case, they picked out, with expert precision, cheetos, a box of oatmeal pies, two and a half hot dogs and a pack of twizzlers. All curated with fine tuning at the corner shop that had seemed to withstand the gentrification. The owner only looked slightly irritated at their intoxication.

"You know," Sid said as they paraded the streets back to Arnold's. They had hung out at U for approximately an hour and a half before they were completely over dorms and RAs and other people, frankly. "we probably," hiccup, "probably should have gotten a bag."

"Or, like…" Gerald's eyes were rimmed with red, "a basket." He held out his hands in what he must've thought was a basket shape. It wasn't particularly anything shaped but muscular boy arm shaped, but Sid went with it anyway. "Like…one of them french ass, little wicker ass baskets. Like from Belle."

"Like," Sid stopped walking. "What?"

"Like, the one with the song," Gerald insisted, turning around while readjusting his grip on the pies and cheetos. "With the little french bitch who was into dogs!"

"Dude." Sid blinked. "I have no fucking clue what you're talking about."

"She's like hey dude-" Gerald had begun to act out the plot of the song? Play? Whatever it was on the sidewalk, doing odd little steps with each characters "your bread is shit. And so is this town, fuck you. And then the clock is all, hey, girl wanna live here now? And she's all, like, do y'all got books? And then the candle makes dinner."

"…how high are you?" Sid asked quietly, mystified. His finger tips were tingling in the cold air, wrapped around the twizzlers.

"No, man! This is a real thing, and it's got the song, and they go" He had his arms out then, bend his knees and then kicking one foot in front of the other. "it's the grey stuuuuff-" he warbled, "it's deliciouuuus." He kicked grandly, "tale as old as tiiime-"

"Dude." Sid dropped his stuff on the ground. "That guy has my bike!" He was scrambling in his pocket, pointing at some guy who was crossing waiting for traffic to stop to cross the street.

"Aw man," Gerald stared sadly at the ground, more importantly, the food on it, "I knew I shouldn't have let you carry the hot dogs."

"DUDE," Sid shouted, taking quick pictures of the guy who was now zipping past on what he knew was the bike he accidentally left on the ground outside of Chipotle, "THAT'S MY BIKE!"

The guy held up a middle finger. Sid swore at him loudly, almost running after him, but getting winded on the third yard.

"Ah, nah!" Gerald shouted at him, "We still good, they were wrapped n' shit!" Sid was scrolling through his phone, trying to see the pictures better, barely listening to Gerald picking up the food he dropped and crooning out " _BE. OUR. GUEST. Be our guest, buy a napkin, it's the beeest"_

* * *

cass 8:15  
good morning  
how did you sleep?

* * *

Lila woke up with a dull ache in her back and a real ache in her head. She decided sleeping on Arnold's floor was never going to be an objective of hers again, even if Sid's arm was lying loosely over her waist. There was half a bag of twizzlers by her head, and Sid on her other side, hair fallen all over the face, looking more mop than boy.

She pulled out from him, shaking her hair loose, surprised to hear voices down the hall. She blinked at the light streaming in, seeing Gerald and Arnold on his bed, the other girls nowhere in sight. They looked… sweet, propped up on each other. Arnold's head was lying in-between Gerald's and his shoulder. They probably fell asleep having a conversation, but it made her giggle nonetheless..

Mari and Helga emerged in the room and it felt a lot smaller suddenly. They were a funny pair standing next to each other, Mari barely hitting 5' 2" and Helga nearly 5' 9". Helga was wearing sweatpants with a language on them Lila didn't even recognize.

"Morning sunshine," Mari padded past her, rubbing a hand on her head. Lila loved it. "We were just debating whether or not to take a picture of them." She sat on the couch, where she must've slept, bouncing into it with a grin.

"No debate necessary," Helga unlocked Sid's phone, snapping a quick picture. "It's done, and now it's immortalized." She grinned at her work, showing them proudly. She flipped backwards through the pictures, "what the hell did Sid and Gerald do on the way to the store last night, it looks like they stalked the shit out of this poor guy."

Sid's eyes, like on a cue, flew open, "my bike," he muttered. He pushed off the ground. "That bastard has my bike but we were too busy reenacting Beauty and the Beast to even…" Sid steadied himself, as if he were going to fall. Lila could practically see the birds flying in a circle around his head, "woah." He said to himself, holding his hands out.

"You were too busy," Mari interrupted, "doing…what?!"

"See, Tic Tac," He pointed out over Helga's shoulder. Lila's heart lifted at the nickname. They really were such sweet friends. "The little tassel that Cass attached during her birthday senio-"

"Senior year," Helga finished for him. She squinted at her phone, "yeah, she tied it right there, I see it. Well, I'll be damned, that is your bike." She clicked the button that locked the phone and handed it back to him. "So?"

"SO!" Sid enthused. "We have to get it back!"

"…what?"'

"Gerald!" He spun around, "we have to- aw." Sid stopped his rampage, grinning ruefully, the way everyone else did, at the picture of them sleeping. "We'll have to wait until they wake up."

"Weren't you," Lila giggled, rubbing her eye in a way that she hoped looked sleepy-cute not dead-tired, "so gung-ho on this just a few moments ago?"

"Yeah, but," Sid shrugged, gesturing to them, "just look at them. So cute. So tired."

Mari laughed, a full-body shout, kind of thing, and Lila leaned her head against the couch, and laughed too.

* * *

cass 11:12  
aaaah i have such a case of the mondays.  
how was your weekend?

* * *

Helga groaned "I don't want to go to Rhonda's party."

Arnold could be heard laughing down the hall. "You promised you would go to Rhonda's party."

"What's in a promise anyway," She countered. "I mean it can't be-"

"Oh, just, trust, honesty, communication," his amused faced appeared from around the corner, "those…little things." He winked at her, rubbing at his face which he just washed. Her phone buzzed again, but she kept looking at him. Something about how the light was hitting him got under her skin a little. His hair looked golden and his face looked so clean…so pure. She could practically hear the sonnet in her head forming and she stood up, wrapping his arms around his neck, kissing him suddenly. He was taken aback but not to the point where he didn't kiss her back.

"Well," he leaned back from her, breaking off softly. His hands wrapped around her waist, tapping at her sides, "hello, there." She could see the lustful look in his eye. He kissed her under the hinge of her jaw. "What was that?"

She loved it. She loved every second of that look and when it was directed at her. It was a strange sort of drug, knowing someone wants you. She put a hand on his stomach, creeping under his shirt. "Do you mind if I…" She brushed her hand down, her finger tips grazing on the hem.

"Hey," He stopped her, pure Arnold, good Arnold, pushing his thumb into her abdomen. "What is this."

"Look," she took a step back, showing him that she could be Rational too. "We're not doing feelings here. We agreed on that. And I want this," She stepped back in, leaving a hand on the edge of his sweatpants. "if you don't, that's fine, but I'm just letting you know that this is what I do want and whenever you're ready I'm fr-"

He interrupted her ramble with a kiss, and let her walk them backwards, falling on to his bed.

Yes, that's _exactly_ what she wanted.

* * *

cass 2:34  
so what's up with sid and his bike?

* * *

"He's wearing a Hill U sweatshirt." Gerald whispered, leaning over the picture intensely.. "How do we not know this dude."

"He's a ging," Sid said quietly, squinting and pointing at the boys apparent red hair, illuminated in only one shot by a street lamp. "There's like…six of those in the whole world."

"Okay, well, that's not true, but…"

"Where was he even going at midnight on a Friday in Arnold's neighborhood by _himself_?" Sid thumped his hand on the table. He was like a madman, a page full of notes in front of them on the table in the library. They were supposed to be studying but they…weren't. Obviously. Unless you counted studying as studying the picture of the guy that Sid had printed and he had…framed, at some point in time. Sid promised he had the frame lying around, but Gerald didn't think that was true. He didn't call him out on it.

"Man _, I don't know_." Gerald rubbed a hand over his face.

Mari was typing on her phone across from them, her hair pushed out of her face by big ol' sunglasses. She looked cute, no makeup on to see, her freckles all visible from the time she spent in the sun at Gerald's practice the day before. He couldn't tell her that, though. She hated when he told her how much he liked it when she didn't wear makeup.

"Here," She said, and it took a moment to realize she was talking to them. "There's your guy," She slid the phone across the table. "Now can y'all please, for the love of God, shut the fuck up." She went back to her book tiredly.

Sid picked up the phone excitedly, staring at the Facebook profile of the culprit with childlike enthusiasm. Gerald looked over at it too, but still listened to Mari muttering under her breath " _can't believe their dumbasses didn't even check Facebook…_ "

He was a little alarmed by how much he loved her.

* * *

cass 12:21  
hey-  
have you seen this?  
watch it, you'll totally get a kick out of it.

* * *

"Well," the silence between them was thick and awkward. It was made worse by the confusion that spread in between them.

Helga couldn't pinpoint a moment in which they went wrong. First times were awkward and sometimes hard to read. It was normal. But they had given a shot at communicating, letting each other know to move right or left or wherever. They had…given it there best go. There had been far too much talking but maybe not enough? Or, they were perhaps at the wrong angle? Maybe it. It was just…

It was awful, really.

They just…hadn't…moved well together, at all. The pinch of her skin being pulled the wrong way, the way she couldn't focus on positioning her body. He couldn't time himself with her… She was wincing thinking about it, and it happened only seconds ago. It was as if it dragged on for centuries, and at the same time…lasted a disappointingly short amount of time. "I'm gonna go," She hummed, rolling out from under the covers, "take a shower. And…all that."

She shut the door on Arnold's "yea, yeah…okay."

* * *

cass 12:52  
fdjk 3:12  
when the guy.  
just watch it, it's funny.

* * *

"Hey, man." Gerald had called out to the kid as they waited outside for his club to let out. Sid was ready to let him do most of the talking. Sure, maybe it was kind of creepy they had assumed he was in German club because his cover photo was with four of it's members, but it was whatever, they had a bike to get. "Can I talk to you real quick?"

"Uh," The guy looked like he was being punked, "sure?" He didn't wait up though, he started walking, _in the direction of the bike racks_ , Sid noted furiously. He was a smarmy looking guy, the way he looked on his Facebook profile. He had on a sweater with elbow patches, the calling cards of pretentious males. He probably took Women's Studies and used it as an excuse to talk over the girls.

"That bike you got…man," Gerald mentioned casually, sticking his hands in his pockets. The guy paused, for only a second, before keeping walking. "It's…nice. Where'd you get it?"

"My parents."

 _LIAR_! Sid thought furiously. The kid picked up his pace, they were at the edge of the rack. Sid thought for a moment about taking the guy's black rimmed glasses, before realizing that that's fucking stupid and wouldn't do anything for anyone.

"Oh, cool, because…like, it's a nice bike and I thought…"

"Did you guys really think that you were just gonna come stalk me here and demand that I give you my bike?" He spit out while unlocking the cord. Sid didn't recognize that, but he lost his. Right before he lost his bike. Which was in that guys hands. Man, he fucking hated Greg, and he only knew his name because of the internet. "Did you really think I wouldn't recognize the drunk idiots who just started yelling at me in the street?"

"Man," Gerald put a hand on the handlebar. "Come on, now, you know this ain't your bike."

Greg pulled it out cooly from under him, "I don't know anything of the kind."  
"You're telling me," Gerald crossed his arms hostily, "that you just decided your bike needed these pink ass streamers?" Sid flicked them with his finger, his contribution to the entire confrontation. "Just tied these little pink streamers on to your bike for fun?'

"Some of us," He narrowed his eyes at Gerald, "have masculinity that isn't so fragile it gets threatened by pieces of plastic." He boarded the bike with a smug grin. Sid hated his skinny corduroy pants. He wanted to burn them. Or he at least hoped they chafed fucking Greg. "Have a good one." He rolled his eye, pedaling past them.

"HEY MAN," Gerald called after him, "JUST GIVE US THE FUCKING BIKE."

Greg held up another middle finger and confirmed it, Sid really could not fucking stand that guy.

"This is **_war_** ," Gerald told him fiercely, but quietly. "We're getting that bike back, because that guy's a _dick_."

"But how?"

"Same way he got it." Gerald told him quietly. "We're gonna take it."

* * *

cass 1:33  
fjdk;als  
some guy just asked me for my phone number and i gave him sids  
guess who's gonna die later  
it me!

* * *

"Do you know what's absolutely absurd?" Helga broke the silence with fortitude, speaking confidently as she braided her wet hair on his bed, feet tucked up under her. She didn't turn to look back at him, not yet, but he was the only person she could be talking to.

"Hm?" Arnold looked up with surprise from his spot on the other corner of it. He thought, for a moment, that he really ought to get more furniture.

"It's crazy, really." She was doing that girl thing, the one where they took the little tie off their wrist and made their hair stay where they put it. She still hadn't turned to face him.

"What is." He asked thickly, preparing for some kind of knock on his…whatever she was going to make fun of him for. He didn't even know.

The craziest thing about it, for him, was that he really couldn't pin point where either of them went wrong.

Arnold had had bad sex before. This was, of course, before he could truly tell the difference, but he cringed at the memory of it, and moreso that the fact that he hadn't even realized in the moment that it was bad. He had definitely left at least one girl with a completely unsatisfactory first time. He and Camila hadn't been so much _in love_ as much as they were so much _bored_.

There were, most definitely, times he was to blame for bad sex. There were times he could honestly blame his partner. There were times when it was just the _situation_. He couldn't blame himself in that moment. He definitely couldn't blame Helga, sitting just feet away from him, the tip of her braid already returning to it's golden color. She still hadn't answered his question. Her sweatshirt pooled around her, massive for her size- which he now knew about, quite intimately, actually.

Arnold didn't consider his life completely piloted by sex the way some boys his age allowed theirs to be. But then again, he didn't have the pressure system built up by friends that most boys his age had. He didn't really even understand what sex was to a person, to a relationship, until Khadijah.

Her face, slender with high cheekbones and a long, sloping nose, hadn't popped into his mind…in weeks. Which was strange, less so that it showed up and more so that he realized he hadn't thought of her. He knew the relationship was destined to fail, but he still floundered in heartbreak when the camp moved to Mahendra Parvatam.

"What's crazy is," she interrupted his train of thought. She stretched forward, long limbs leaning in front of her, "even after _that_ ," she looked back at him. She twisted around, planting her hands on his comforter, bemused smile sitting crookedly on her face, "I still like you…" she tilted her head, like she was confused at her own words, "a lot."

He could feel the grin pulling at the corners of his face, and he grabbed one of her wrists. She let herself be tugged up to lay on top of him. She was smiling as he kissed her, gently…mostly because he couldn't stop smiling himself.

Her thumb was in between his sweatpants and his abdomen, and he looked down and back up at her with a smirk.

"Are we really going for this again, already?" He asked her, laughing a bit, but already affected by her.

"Sure," she shrugged. She wiggled up, tucking her legs up to sit on his lap. "But this time…just let me handle it." She wiggled again, but that time…with purpose.

Arnold took a moment, looking from her smug face, to the wet spots her hair left on her sweatshirt, to the way her toes were ever so slightly curled behind her.

"No, actually," he replied calmly. He grabbed her wrists.

She was raising an eyebrow, and opening her mouth, but before she said anything he effectively rolled them over, switching positions with her.

"No," he frowned contemplatively, pushing her wrists into the pillow by her head. "No, this time," He leaned down towards her, "you're going to let me handle it."

And by the tinge in her cheeks, and her widened gaze, the slight arch in her back, he thought he figured _exactly_ what they were missing.

* * *

cass 10:12

hey

miss u

* * *

"This is…" Sid started to say, but was interrupted by Gerald.

"Gonna work," he finished for him. They were sitting at the bus stop, even though the bus didn't run that late, waiting for the guy to pass again. It was cold as fuck, and Sid was kind of trying to mooch off of Gerald's body heat without trying to straight-up cuddle Gerald. Not that Gerald didn't seem like a good cuddler, because he kind of did. They were up a block further, past the intersection where they saw him a week ago. "You're gonna bike to Rhonda's party tomorrow. I promise you that."

"Actually, I'm probably gonna drive over with Arnold and Helga. I thought we were meeting you and Mari at the diner before."

"Ah, shit. Well, you gonna bike to Arnold's tomorrow, how's that?"

"Yeah, yeah. Sounds good."

It was quiet again on the city streets, save for the occasional chatter of bar goers on their way to their next stop. Sid was glad he wore gloves that time.

"Look, man!" Gerald nudged him after what felt like forever, "there he is." There he was, pushing the bike up the street instead of riding it, huddled over in the cold. The plan was, after that, to follow him until they could snatch it back. He stopped before he got to the intersection, taking something out of the little rig on the back, where Sid used to put his backpack, and dropping it on a doorstep. Sid hadn't taken the time to look up at where they were. His mom lived like a block away. The step was old and looked a little corroded and the mat out front had mold on it. He rang the doorbell, but then kept walking.

"Is…" Gerald watched curiously, 'is Greg using your bike in some kind of drug deal?"

"I…" Sid shook his head, "I don't know."

Greg waited, and then crossed the street with the bike in tow. They had no choice to stand up and try and follow him, or they were going to lose sight of him.

He did the same thing at a similar looking home down the street. Sid got a closer look at the object he put down. It looked like a tin pan covered in…plastic wrap? It was too far and too dark to see. There was a little placard on the back of his bike then, with a little sign that said Meals on Wheels.

His mom got those every once and awhile.

"Do you," Gerald swallowed, "do you want to follow him?"

Sid shook his head, hoping that it was just the chill that made his breath catch in his throat. "Nah, man. Let's…" he let out a breath, watching the fog come from it in front of him, "let's get out of here."

Gerald breathed a similar sigh of relief, "wanna get a hot dog?"

It's not as if the kid had stolen it. Sid had left it on the street, in the open, like a true idiot. _Finders keepers_ , Sid thought as they walked side by side back to the store. And, who knew, maybe it _was_ Greg's bike and he did just really like pink.

* * *

cass 11:10

call me when u get this.

* * *

She knew her phone buzzed, she knew who it was, so Helga tossed it on the floor with a grumble. Arnold moved behind her, wrapping himself around her.

His chin was digging painfully into her shoulder blade, but she couldn't bring herself to care. One of his arms wrapped around his torso.

"Are you going to tell me why you're avoiding your friend?" He picked up his chin, leaning his face on to her face. She wasn't sure if she wanted to smile or sigh. She really didn't know how to talk to him about _Cass_.

"She thinks I'm disassociating again." She replied with an annoyed huff, letting the little blitz of truth out before realizing the ramifications. She felt them a moment later, when he pulled back from her.

"…disassociating?" He asked quietly, she could hear the concern bleeding through his voice.

She sat up rapidly. "I don't want to talk about this, Arnold." She raked her fingers through her hair aggressively, pulling it into a bun on her head, mostly so she would have something to do with her hands. Her heart rate had picked up and she felt her left knee start to wobble.

"Okay," he said simply. She could hear his voice tipping back and forth, like a see saw that had yet to hit the ground on either side. He was testing the waters, trying to see if he could push it, and ask again. Or ask a different question. She _hated_ how well she knew Arnold. She reached for a hair tie to secure her bun, and realized there wasn't one on her wrist. She let her hair fall down with a frustrated sigh. "But normally," Arnold started and she groaned, standing up from the bed to trek to her stuff on the shitty dresser they pulled off someone's curb, the one she'd slowly been covering in sharpie. "that's a sign we should talk about it." He finished quietly, only hesitating for a moment at her groan.

"I don't know what you want me to say, Arnold," she rooted through her tired green messenger bag with a huff. "It's a _thing_ and I have _it_ and I _hate_ it and I **_don't_** want to talk about it." She wished she could find her hair tie. She wished this conversation were over. She wished the conversation never needed to be had. She wished she were wearing something other than the giant sweater they found in a box in one of the vacant rooms, namely, some pants.

"Helga," he sighed quietly. She could see his reflection in the mirror they propped up beside the dresser, him sitting criss crossed on thei- _his_ bed, his arms around his knees. She pretended to look at her own reflection as she tied up her own hair. She watched him carefully choose his words before weaving together his next sentence. "I don't know what _it_ is."

"Oh," she could feel her face twist up into the nasty snarl before it even registered, "fucking hel- it's a _disorder_ , Arnold." Her hair flew around her as she whipped back to look at him. "A _fucking_ -" she stood up straight, feeling her hands fly to her hips even though she hadn't told them to do that. "A _fucking_ ** _ailment_** , where I'm just _not all there_ -" She spun a finger by her temple, feeling the words spit out of her mouth, "and **_more-so_** than normal." She didn't know when she started shouting but she hated how her throat burned.

"Helga," he stopped sitting in the somewhat childish pose and planted his feet on the floor. "I, genuinely, don't understand what you mean."

"I've…I've _done it before,_ okay?!" She was pacing then, all fast feet and faster words. "I stop thinking of myself as _in my body_ , or _in my life_ and I start focusing all my energy on things that aren't _real_ ," She had her fingers in her hair again, "or sometimes **_nothing at all_**. It's… ** _AGH_**!" She thumped her frustration out by slamming her hands on the sharpie covered dresser. "It's so _frustrating_ , and it's _embarrassing_ and I **_hate it_** , Arnold. _I hate it so fucking much_." She crossed her arms on the dresser, leaning down to press her forehead on to them. She wanted her skin to be more cool, more soothing, but she had a habit of heating up when she got upset. She was trying, to no avail, to get her heart rate to settle.

"Helga," She had no idea when he stood up, but his hands were on her shoulders. "I'm sorry, look, I-" His thumbs were rubbing in circles. "I definitely didn't mean to upset you. Really, I'm sorry."

His regret only made her swirling feelings worse, they just span faster. She stood up, shrugging off his hands and walked over to the bed. She let her hair fall like a curtain in front of her face, and flopped down on her stomach.

"Arnold," she said into the mattress. "I'm not sure if you've noticed, but I am a world-class fuck up."

He laughed behind her.

"That's not true." She could hear the disbelief in his voice. "You're the smartest person I know."

"Intelligence," she said monotonously, "is nothing anymore."

She felt the mattress dip next to her as he laid down. She peeked up just in time to watching him shut his eyes, tucking his hands behind his head. There was something so peaceful in the look on his face, the graceful sweep of light colored lashes on his cheek.

"I just…slip away." She told him quietly, tucking her chin up on the mattress. He opened one eye, and peered down at her through it.

"It's …kind of common from kids with traumatic childhoods," She told him, doing a bizarre shoulder shrug while laying flat on her stomach. She didn't know why she didn't expect the little flinch he had when she mentioned her childhood, but she didn't.

"When I was little I had a…different form of outlet." She was giving him a strange little glance, feeling the smile ghosting over her top lip.

She sat up then, pushing up on her hands, talking calmly, as if she wasn't about to put a hole through the wall a few moments ago, "And then I had you and I had friends and things were kind of stable for a while…" She mused quietly, crossing her legs to sit criss-cross. She started tapping out a pattern on the knee of his jeans. "And…and then you left." She said quietly, sadly.

"And I understand why…I totally understand why. I understood then, too. Trust me, if I could have flown off to a magical land where I'd suddenly have parents who loved me…"

His eyes flew open, his hands came out from behind his head to sit on the mattress. She didn't give him the chance to respond.

"I would have." She said softly, rubbing her thumb on his knee. She could see the statement burning in his eyes, _your parents love you_ , was practically reeking from his pores. She was so, so glad he didn't say it.

"And some other stuff happened, Miriam and the wedding and my fight with Phoebe and Gerald and then…" She shrugged again, looking down at their crumpled duvet.

"And then, well, frankly, everything sucked. It sucked _so_ bad that summer in between middle school and high school. Bob didn't have a job and he was so _angry_ _all the time_. I didn't have anywhere to be. I would sit in my room…for hours, sometimes, and just stare at a wall." She looked up at his wall. It was painted. maybe slightly poorly, because she did the part on the top and it was on the ceiling a little. She did like green. "I couldn't tell you what I was doing. I don't know if I was doing… _anything_." She took a breath, letting her eyes fall on the dresser again, the fish she was drawing using one of the knobs for the drawers as it's eye. "I wasn't really there." She finished quietly.

"Can I," she could hear Arnold swallow even though she didn't look at him. "can I ask where you were," He grabbed her hand on his knee then, scraping his pointer finger down the center of her palm. It brought her back to him, to the ground, just a little bit.

"I really don't know." She shook her head. "In high school it became a little more…tangible, I guess. I got really into some stuff online, then. Making up…worlds, roleplaying with people. Imagining myself in relationships that will neve- _were never possible_." She corrected herself, eyes landing on her bag. She remembered Cass giving it to her. It was in October, she dumped it on their lunch table with no introduction. It wasn't Helga's birthday, or anywhere near Christmas. It wasn't wrapped, it had no bow. Cass said she found it at a thrift store and thought of her. That was a lie, but Helga didn't know it then. She knew Helga didn't have a usable backpack. Helga saw the bag two weeks later in the window of a boutique in town, a price tag of $45 only visible if she squinted. She smiled, faintly, at the memory. "You know," She let the smile slip into her voice, turning back to Arnold now that a little bit of the sadness had dried up, "that's why Sid has a habit of climbing up my fire escapes." She dropped his hand, tapping her finger on his leg was a small giggle. "He had to, in some summers or I wouldn't…answer at all. For…weeks…" It was insane. It was completely insane. Time was a truly non-renewable resource. Sometimes she cried when she thought of what she lost to nothing. At that moment, she could only shake her head.

"And then there was the time I wouldn't go home from Cass's." She started the new story with a wry grin, "her family has never been anything short of loving and accommodating… but at the end of the day, they weren't my family. They didn't have any kind of paper work for me, or legality over me. And the day Bob came to find me…the day he blamed me for Mom's problems…" She shuddered a little bit.

" I told you about that, and I don't really want to talk about it anymore. I really, really don't." He didn't respond other than tapping her wrist, which was on his leg, with his thumb.

"So…after that, then I met Jake at that record store. And I thought I was grown as hell, staying over for nights, not showing up to class." She snorted, "Mom went back to rehab. It was like…an advance form of disassociation. Instead of just…making stuff up in my head…I lived it." She shook her head again, "like I made up a whole new life for myself in like, less than two weeks." She purposefully made sure he couldn't catch her eye, looking at his little steps to the roof, how they still hadn't locked the hatch. "I made up a whole new Helga. Had my nose pierced and anything. Sid stopped the plans for tattoos more than needing a parent ever did."

"In…in less than two weeks?" She felt the mattress dip again, and she could tell without looking at him that he was moving, wiggling up so they were finally at the same level. "Do you," he swallowed, "is that why Cass thinks, I mean. Do you think you're doing it…I mean, we did kind of just reconnect, like, recently-"

"Do I think Cass is right and avoiding her is just another way of disassociating with the life I lead?" She still didn't look at him, keeping her eyes firmly on the hatch that was fluttering, ever so slightly, with the wind.

She took his silence as a yes.

She let it be silent for a moment. She let herself imagine, for only a second, that this was the silence before this conversation ever started. Silence that happened in between Netflix episodes, silence that sat between them when they read, or when he painted and she scribbled on the dresser. The silence she loved. The silence that didn't mean anything.

She took a breath, and flipped down to lay on her back, knowing he watched her do it.

"I don't know," She didn't look at him, and she just wished it weren't so cloudy so she at least had stars to look at out of the skylight. "I don't."

 _I hope not_ , she tacked on silently.

* * *

 _a/n i can only take one seriousTM plot at a time. the other one i wanted kind of to feel like a throwback like an actual plot of an episode lol. let me know what u thought of it if u thought it was kind of stupid thats okay. love u all thank u for reading, thank you very very much if u leave reviews u mean the world to me u really do!_

 _xx k._


	16. Chapter 16

Arnold was enjoying one of the last days his grandpa would be able to be outside that autumn with him in the gazebo. They talked about everything, from books to life away to life in Hillwood. He came often, mostly daily, and gave updates about Miles' thoughts on the boarding house and what exactly he wanted to do with it. Grandpa told him updates about the affair he was decently sure the pianist for the lobby was having with the head cooking lady. It was nice, to sit with his Grandpa to talk about everything and anything.

Plus, Arnold thought on that specific Thursday, not telling anyone about Helga was kind of killing him. So, what better person was there to tell than his Grandpa?

There wasn't really one.

"Grandpa," he leaned his elbows on his legs, "I've been seeing a girl recently, and I'm-"

"I knew you would be." He grinned smugly at him, reaching out to pat Arnold's leg. "I knew you'd be back with Eleanor the minute you put your feet back in this town." He looked oh so devious, which made Arnold laugh.

Arnold learned that his grandparents had been silently rooting for him and Helga for most of his childhood, and he heard the parallels to their origin story multiple times when they got together the first time. Which was mildly ridiculous, because they were…11…

"Grandpa," Arnold interrupted, "I'm just worried because she has this, well, and we're moving kind of fast, and-"

"Arnold," Grandpa took his time to interrupt him. "All I can tell you is," his grip tightened on his knees, "don't let her get away this time. And never-"  
"Eat raspberries," They finished in unison with a grin.

"Yea, Grandpa," Arnold smiled affectionately at him, the old man who had finally had no choice but let age take over his body, how slowly he moved and how sunken in and spotted his skin was, "I know." He finished with a nod.

* * *

Helga was dropped off in front of her house, the same as she was the last time she went home, but she told them to drive away because his car was in the driveway, which wasn't surprising, because it was five o'clock on a Friday, and she was just picking up a costume to wear for the party, and getting back out of there.

She almost knocked, feeling absurdly nervous about entering her own house. She opened her door delicately, almost tiptoeing into the small living room by the screen door entrance.

Bob was on their horrifyingly ugly green couch, which was only a loveseat, cramped up into a small sack of a person, especially considering how enormous he is, under a ratty knitted blanket. He had a newspaper on the floor in front of him and a coffee cup with…god knows what in it, sitting on the floor beside it. The T.V., small, and at least 6 years old, was playing the menu screen for the Jerk, only indicating Bob fell asleep while watching it. Helga stood there, raking her eyes over the scene, before dashing up to her room to grab what she planned on getting, and back out of the house as quickly as possible.

She didn't know why the image was settling, stuck on to the forefront of her mind. She just wanted to get the pink dress she had stashed in the back of the closet, and she did that, so why was Bob's graying head stuck in her mind?

Their group was cutely themed, all in their 80's garb. They were meant to look like the kids from Stranger Things which they got half way through the weekend prior as a group, and watching individually while sending aggressively excited, but vague for the sake of spoilers, texts to their group chat. They then decided that that was not only easy but a cheap Halloween theme, so Arnold and Gerald dug through the boxes at the boarding house and pulled out ugly sweaters and old jeans. Helga had, unspokenly, called dibs on Eleven, and was wearing a pink dress and dabbed a little red paint under her nose. Mari had completely rejected the idea of being Nancy and decided to be…the lights, and wrapped herself in lights after wearing a black dress. Sid and Lila, giggling in a corner of their booth at the restaurant, wrapped together a bundle of leaves and were tucking it in Sid's long hair, smearing excess dirt onto the leather pants Sid bought on a whim Junior year. This, apparently, paired with a leather jacket, was good enough to make Sid the Demagorgon. Lila was supposed to be Barb, in fact, the entire costume was her idea, but instead came dressed as…a pumpkin…with two holes cut out at the breasts.

Helga had no fucking clue what that was supposed to be, but she accepted it anyway.

They had pulled up at the party at a reasonably late time, but just early enough to be amongst the first to arrive. Mari and Gerald led the pack, followed by Arnold and Lila, laughing about something or other in regards to lights. Sid and Helga trailed behind. He seemed to notice her trailing feet and wallowed behind the others.

She still couldn't shake the image of Bob on the couch from her head, or what was in the cup… She suddenly got nervous, and maybe it was also about the party? She didn't know where to look or what to do and she just…

"Sid," she stopped walked, suddenly fiddling uncomfortable with the edge of her blue jacket.

"What," He stopped just a few paces n front of her. He shoved his hands in his pockets, tilting his head to the side with a curious lilt.

"Can we leave?" He blinked at her. She was regretting the decision she made to wear the flimsy blue coat instead of a real one. She dropped her hand to her forearm, noticing the bizarre prickling feeling of her own skin.

"Tac," he sighed her name and even though she recognized the sound she hated the way it settled between them "we," his head ducked back to the propped open front door, and his friends making their way inside "we haven't even made it to the door yet."

She didn't know what she expected when she opened her mouth. She didn't picture it, she didn't practice. Asking Sid to leave places had become so habitual in her routine she barely thought it out. She felt the bile that had previously build up in her throat drop to her stomach.

"And I told Lila I'd do that one dance, and I-" He pulled a pack of tissues out of his pocket "I have Mari's tissues."

"Mari…is sick?" Helga asked blithely, watching her breath become fog in the light of the house in front of her.

"…yeah?" Sid nodded, "she's been sneezing all day."

…Helga hadn't noticed.

Sid still hadn't moved either way. If she really wanted him to, she could tell, he would come with her. And that just made the whole thing so much worse.

"What dance does Lila want you to do?"

"The one, you know- from freshman ye-"

Holy shit, Sid really liked Lila. Helga's eyes widened, looking at him as he explained. He must have thought she had forgotten. She hadn't, she just knew he fucking hated that dance. And he was going to do it with her. Because he liked her.

And Helga hadn't noticed.

"Well," she pushed past him, interrupting the end of his sentence explaining the dance, ignoring whatever concerned look he was probably sending her back "onward, then." Helga needed booze, and she needed it fast.

* * *

To Rhonda, the beauty of the whole picture was really in the details. Her cups were black and she had the shot glass solo cups. There were cobwebs on the chandelier and did it matter that people like Helga Pataki were going to walk in, take a few shots and not appreciate any of it in the slightest?

No, because Rhonda was going to appreciate it, and she was going to dance with her friends from high-school, and not think about the study group she didn't have a high enough GPA to join, or her history midterm, or anything related to Columbia, and that would be enough.

* * *

"Cass," Helga spoke heatedly into her phone, tossing her cup after downing three…maybe four shots of liquor in two gulps, onto a sparse end table and flipping back around the wall. "Cass. I'm freaking out." She hid away from the people, sighing at the coveted empty hallway of the party. It had barely begun, but Helga's gut was right when she was outside, she shouldn't have gone in in the first place. Her hands were twitching and she was all too aware of the sweat starting to form. She whirled past Arnold, who was catching up with Eugene as she dialed frantically.

"Well, hello to you too." A flat voice answered. It had none of the tease, the love stitched into it. Helga barely noticed.

"Cass," She continued eagerly, "I didn't. I'm so-" the shots hit her faster than she thought they would on an empty stomach, she leaned back against the wall, pressing her free palm agains her sweaty forehead. "I didn't even, um, notice, like I wasn't even aware that Sid is, like, in love with Lila. Mari has a cold, and I didn't even pick up on it and my dad might be, my dad is probably-" She rambled into the phone, pressing it aggressively against her face to fight against the loud music.

"Helga," Cass interrupted coldly. It was only then she noticed her dark tone. "You do realize it is 11:30 on a Friday night, Halloweekend, no less, and you haven't spoken to me in a week."

Helga nearly dropped her phone, but it was basically stuck to the concoction of foundation and sweat on her skin. Another thing she barely even thought about.

"Holy shit," tears welled up in her eyes and she didn't even know where they came from, "I am such a shitty person." She sniffed loudly, rubbing her hand across her eye.

"Helga, I didn't say that-"

"Okay well," she stood up straight, sniffing back the tears, trying her damnedest to conceal it in her voice, and she still couldn't figure out why she was crying. "I think I'm gonna go now-" she tried in her most Okayest voice she could muster. "You enjoy your Halloweekend…"

"Helga, stop it." Cass' voice firmly caught her before she hung up. "Stop making this about you."

"But I wasn't-" the innocent whiny voice Helga hated flew out of her before she could even register it.

" _Helga_." Cassidy's voice was clear. "Stop. You're gonna work yourself into a panic attack. Go find the bathroom, are you at Rhonda's? Go find the bathroom on the second floor, past her room. Splash some water on your face, take a deep breath, and for fuck's sake, Tac, stop pitying yourself."

Helga didn't even think she was going to listen, was going to hang up and never talk to Cass again, but then, there she was, on the second floor, with a wet face...

but still a lot of self pity.

* * *

Thad didn't really know why he drove into the city to come to Rhonda's party, but he kind of wanted to fuck with it. He didn't so much have a plan yet, but he was pulling in just early enough to make sure she knew he was there.

He had realized how little of a game plan he had when he was met with a modest crowd of people, despite the relatively early hour. He spotted Eugene in the corner, and mentally marked him there, a time-honored comfort blanket of a friend. He was scanning the crowd for Rhonda when he realized exactly who was standing with Eugene, and suddenly he was bumped to first priority.

He heard through the grapevine, more specifically, Gerald's instagram, that Arnold was back in town. And there he was, and holy shit, Arnold got tall.

He strode over confidently, grabbing Eugene's shoulders from behind him, and ignored his spluttering to plant a noisy kiss on his cheek, fingers digging into his collar bone.

"Hey, baby-" He drawled at him, watching Eugene flail only momentarily before registering Thad in his presence, and then he just gave him a flat look.

"Arnold," Thad held out a hand, in a Manly way, pleased with how Arnold met it. "Man, bud, I haven't thought about you in ages. "It's Th- Curly," he corrected himself, with a grin in Eugene's direction. "We sat together at lu-"

"Curly," Arnold stopped shaking his hand at just the right moment, Thad liked that, "I remember you, but I have to say I didn't recognize you!" He shoved his free hand back in his pocket. "You look good."

"You're telling me I look good?" Arnold looked like he had just jumped out of a sexy jungle man adventure romance novel, as Thad was sure there were many of those. Thad pushed a hand back through his hair, just brushing past his ears now, and grinned. "You're one to talk."  
Arnold looked down sheepishly, and goddamnit, he was still humble. "So are," he took a sip of his drink. "Are you guys a couple, then?"

Thad really wanted to fuck with Arnold and answer "yes," and wish he had texted Eugene the plan prior to the arrangement. However, he hadn't thought through the plan quite that clearly, so he could only shrug when Eugene replied "nah," casually.

"We used to fuck, though." Thad added on with a casual shrug, leaning against the wall beside him. "Like, all the time." He deliberately didn't look at Eugene, ignoring the annoyed glare in his direction.

"Oh?" Arnold's eyebrows were practically in his hairline, "well, uh, good on you, then, for uh, being so, like, cool with each other? I guess."

"We had no options." Eugene replied with a quiet sigh, putting his hands in his pockets. Freshman year looked good on him so far, curly hair flopping a little into his eyes, and a little more weight on his body. He had come in a tasteful Arthur costume, complete with the yellow sweater. It was just enough, not overboard. Thad, himself, had wanted to come as Joanne the Scammer, and then Harly Quinn, but he decided to take it easy on the heterosexual hop and was dressed as Deadpool. "Until, like, junior year, when it was suddenly cool to be gay." Eugene finished.

Curly barked out a laugh, "ah, man-" he shook his head, enjoying the memory of it but more-so the everlasting tinge of pink on Arnold's cheeks, "Junior year rocked."

"Isn't that the year you hooked up with Rho-"

"Yes, well," Thad had no options but to interrupt Eugene before the end of his sentence. "That I had to sign a contract to swear my secrecy on so, you know, hush hush." He winked at Eugene for the hell of it. Eugene looked kind of ready to punch him, but he enjoyed it.

"So, you're not a full gay?" Arnold blinked at them, and then it settled over him, the horror of the oddity of what he just said. "Ah, god, sorry, that came out all wrong." His grip on his cup was so tight, Thad thought it might crack in his hands. "I meant, well, you know-" he took a sip to avoid finishing his own sentence.

"What," Thad quirked his head to the side "were you…interested?"

Getting spit on was 100% worth it.

* * *

"Helga," Lila leaned up against the door. "Baby," she was most definitely tipsy. "Open the door, please. I have water and pretzels and I'm gonna eat them all if you don't and that's more pretzels for me, but you might be sad because I think these are the last pretzels at the whol-" Helga had opened the door mid-stream of consciousness. She looked like a peach that had been thrown out of a window- both bruised and sad. And maybe it was raining, because she looked...wet, too.

"Oh," Lila rolled her shoulders back, trying not to notice Helga's appearance, "hi" she grinned at the distraught looking Helga. "Pretzel?" She held up the bag with a grin.

* * *

Arnold had very little idea of what to do, not that he wasn't enjoying listening to Curly and Eugene, because he actually was. They had grown to be funny, and Curly was confident as all hell, but Arnold surveyed the room and could spot exactly nobody that he had come to the party with. Helga was missing, Lila just twirled up the stairs, Gerald and Mari lost in the crowd of a successful party and- Sid, there was Sid, and he was- headed outside? With Stinky?

"What are the-" He trailed off, before realizing he had caught the attention of his peers. "God, sorry, again," he rubbed his hand on his face. "I guess I'm a little spacey tonight." Curly followed his view point, watching the door to the Wellington patio close behind them. "Are they still good friends?"

"No, actually," Eugene wrinkled his nose up, staring after them. "They didn't really run in the same circle in high school…I mean, with Helga and Gerald all but painting battle lines across the floor of the gym."  
"And Sid was in love with Helga, then, so…" Curly said that as if it were something Arnold knew. He spluttered on his drink, again, and made a mental note to keep his cup nowhere near his mouth when Curly spoke.

"He was?"

"I mean," Curly exchanged a look with Eugene. "We both worked on the musical that year, hah-" Curly grinned, "god, I forgot about doing middle school theatre. Footloose, right? What a terrible musical."

Eugene rolled his eyes, "it was terrible, but we had fun and I got to use a country accent. Anyway- I thought it was common knowledge that Sid's just kind of…in love with Helga."

"Sid's in love with her, Jake was in love with Sid, but more-so popularity, and Gerald had cornered the market on that by then so-"

"Wait, wait," Eugene interrupted Curly, "you really think…Jake? Really?"

It was still alarming to Arnold that they called Stinky "Jake" let alone that he shared a name with Helga's ex-boyfriend. Well, he grinned inwardly, he could suppose they were both ex-boyfriends of hers. This, was, possibly more alarming than Curly's insinuation about Stinky's sexuality. Hell, Curly had made insinuations about Arnold's not fifteen minutes ago.

"Mueller swears on his life they hooked up after practice freshman year." Curly added to the gossip with a shrug.

"I don't know who that is," Eugene squinted at him, and Arnold had kind of zoned out for a moment, the influx information washing over him.

"Uh, medium height. Low-key looks like a pigeon that got shoved into a garbage disposal. He looks like, fuck, I don't know- dollar store, off-brand Sid. He got his number changed because the coach kept confusing him and Sid."

Eugene raised his eyebrows, "and this was freshman year?"

Curly nodded with a smug little grin.

"…yikes."

"What's yikes?" Gerald had snuck up behind them, delightfully tipsy Mari in tow behind him. Alcohol suited her, Arnold thought, flushed cheeks and her curls looking bouncy despite the sweat collecting on her hairline.

"Gerald, you would know-" Curly pushed off from the wall, looking a bit like he didn't know what to do with his hands now that his arms weren't crossed, "is Jake gay? Or," he spared Arnold an amused glint, "part gay?"

Gerald blinked at him, blank-faced, and then slowly rubbed a hand across his face. "Gentleman, please-" He looped an arm around Mari's neck, "it is both too early and too sober to start speculatin' about one of my best friend's sexuality, alright?" He grinned down at them, "How are you bastards? We haven't talked in years-"

Arnold tuned out of the conversation again, partially wondering where Helga was, and partially wondering if Gerald would have called Stinky one of his best friends, and not his best friend, a few weeks ago.

Also- the small seed of doubt that wasn't ever present in his mind…

Was Sid into Helga?

* * *

Helga was laying on the bathroom tile with Lila, of all people, giggling, while she twisted braids into her hair and then undid them again. The initial wave of nausea from too much alcohol too fast had passed already, dulling into a pleasant buzz filling the air between them. Lila didn't ask a single question about why on earth Helga had holed herself in the bathroom, and instead, launched into a story she got told about Kelly- former cheer captain and possible expecting mother. Helga still had no idea what the hell Lila's costume was supposed to be, but apparently everyone else did, so she didn't raise any questions about it.

"Helga," Lila flopped up onto her side suddenly, propping her chin up with her hand. "Can I-" hiccup, "oh, well. I guess it isn't-" She trailed off. Helga was going to giggle a response, but Lila began again.

"Helga," Lila started again, tapping a hand on to the center of Helga's belly. Helga snickered at the sound it made. "What do you want out of this life?"

"Happiness." Helga answered quickly. Lila's face was grinning down at her, red hair mussed from rolling around on the tile. She had been touching her face, Helga could see where the foundation had rubbed off to reveal her freckles. She had something smeared under her jaw, and her left eye was wrinkled shut when she was amused more than her right eye. She was still maddeningly lovely.

"No," Lila all but smacked Helga's stomach. "That's not an answer." She told her frankly, clicking her tongue. "Here," She shimmied down to lay on her own stomach, right next to Helga. "I'll go first." Lila took a moment, and Helga noticed that Rhonda's bathroom ceiling was painting a steel gray color, with intricate detailing. There was a chandelier above them, and Helga was about to begin counting crystals when Lila spoke again.

"I want Sunday mornings where there's nothing to do but be with someone," Lila's arm was pressed up against Helga. "I want green shutters on my windows, and flower baskets on the outside." Helga could hear the sound of her breath in the pauses. "I want to learn how to make proper biscuits and gravy, and a daughter I can teach to love to dance, and I want to learn to play the piano, and I want a bike that's filthy all the time because it's so well loved. And dish towels that are pretty and I want time to bake."

Helga could almost see Lila's future, there, in Rhonda's bathroom, spattered sunspots showing up in her mind and daisies and children laughing. She could almost reach out and touch it, almost.

"Now," Lila's head turned towards her, Helga felt her breath on her ear. "You go."

"I want…a career," Helga said after a healthy pause, shutting her eyes and letting her head fully rest against the tile. "I want a career where I'm…appreciated and acknowledged. I want to wake up with…purpose." Lila didn't respond, and Helga took that as her cue to keep talking.

"I want to live in a flat in the city. Maybe it's shitty, but it's mine. I want to bartend during the nights and read during the days and know it's only temporary while I'm going to school. I want to spend my nights off eating pizza and drinking for myself and I want friends to do that with. There's this bed spread with all these flowers on it and it's from ikea and I see it on Tumblr all the time, and I want one of those, on my bed, in this flat. I want there to be ink that rubbed off on the sheet from my notebook, I want to write that much." Lila curled over Helga, like a nurturing mother, wrapping her arms over her as they laid on the floor. Lila had drank more than Helga but it barely showed in her speech

"Life," Lila sighed happily, "is so maleable. And so precious. And so _yours_. I'm so excited. I can't wait for tomorrow."

Helga knew she didn't mean actually tomorrow, or even next week. Helga knew she meant the grand tomorrow- the tomorrow they hadn't even imagined. She appreciated the link between them, the understanding she had of Lila now, where she didn't need her to clarify what she meant. She had no idea Lila and her were meant to be so close, but apparently, they were.

She had, frankly, no earthly idea of how long they were stretched out on the bathroom floor, giggling, letting the alcohol fade off their bodies, every so often exchanging something they wanted in the future. But Mari burst in after however long- and in a rush, too.

"Where have y'all been we're gonna need your help down- what in the hell are y'all doin?"

"Dreaming." Lila replied quietly.

"This looks… like a lot more fun than what's goin' down downstairs."

* * *

Gerald had sent Mari to find Helga and Lila because they were gonna need some female calvary, people that, at least, had met Rhonda before that night. He knew Rhonda was allowed to drink whatever she wanted to at her own party, but someone let her get out of hand, and it was only almost 1 am. She was crying in the corner of her own party, discovered, by who else, a completely baffled Arnold. Her makeup was smeared across the sleeve of her blood red dress, and she only responded in sobs to Gerald's pleas to get her up.

People, of course, are assholes, and paid attention to the discovery for a moment, but another drunk girl crying is another drunk girl crying, and the dancing had continued to flow throughout the room. A flushed Lila and a Helga who looked like she took all the makeup off her face were trotting down the stairs behind Mari.

"Rhonda," Lila knelt tenderly by Rhonda's side, "hey, now, what's wrong-"

"Enough." Helga all but elbowed Lila out of her way. "Up and at 'em Lloyd, you have a party to run."

Rhonda looked up, and her eyelashes were barely hanging on her eyes and Gerald was once again mystified by the power of makeup. The excuse was obviously hanging on the tip of Rhonda's tongue, but Helga cut her off once again.

"We'll talk upstairs. Get up, you're not dying. But-" Helga knelt down to her level, all power in her pose, and Gerald, for a moment, considered she should really look into political science…or law enforcement. "You're not this girl. You've never been this girl, and you're not gonna turn into this girl," She had a finger firmly in Rhonda's face. She glanced up to Lila, and then winked at Mari, and looked back down to Rhonda "not on our watch. Let's go, Rhonda." She stood backup, and held down a hand to Rhonda. She accepted it, and tilted to her feet, towering over Helga in her tall heels.

"Yeesh- Lloyd, think we can ditch the heels until we get upstairs?" She tried to straighten Rhonda on her own feet.

"They're-" Rhonda managed through sniffles, "louboutins."

"Christ," Helga rolled her eyes, "of course they are." Helga had either obviously, not had much to drink, or not had anything in a few hours. "Oh, hey," she glanced up to Arnold who was standing but a foot behind Gerald. "Haven't seen you in a few hours."

"I was here," he smirked at her, crossing the few steps towards her "and you were?"

"Dreaming," She glanced at Lila with an odd little smile, "for a moment." She leaned up on her toes and kissed him chastely. Gerald then realized she probably was a little tipsier than she let on. "I'll see you in a bit…" She trailed off, realizing the blank stares of her friends. " _Ya wanna make somethin' of it_?"

She and Lila, despite Rhonda's massive height advantage, started to heave the wobbly Rhonda up her ridiculous curly stairs. "Rhonda," Helga grunted, "I have got to tell you," another step, "you have the shittiest taste in friends." Mari followed behind, walking backwards, and mouthing to Gerald with raucous hand gestures _"you owe me ten dollars."_

Which was true, because his money was on Helga/Arnold happening after Halloween. Rookie mistakes.

* * *

Arnold didn't know what to do and certainly didn't feel like answering any of Gerald's questions because Helga really didn't give him any answers to give, so he meandered his way outside, where Sid and Stinky, Jake, whatever were sharing a blunt, laying back on pool chairs rendered useless due to the closed pool.

"Hey guys," he sat next to them on an empty plastic chair, collapsing into it more than he intended to. "What's up?"

"We're…reminiscing?" Sid looked at Stinky, "I guess." He had ditched his leather jacket, despite the crisp October air, it was over the back of his chair.

"Time's a funny thing, Arnold," Stinky drawled taking an additional hit of the blunt slowly. "Things never worked out the way ya' plan."

Arnold knew Curly had a penchant for chaos and causing drama but he wondered for a moment if any of his prior speculations about them were right as they passed the blunt between them.

You couldn't see the stars, not really, in the city. They looked up at the sky anyway. Arnold was getting cold, his hands were starting to move slower, and he could feel the tip of his nose turning red.

He thought about the looks on his friend's faces, the amused but relieved grins when Helga kissed him so quickly in the foyer. He thought about how she had stuck to her word and really not told any of them. Not even Cassidy…or, he thought, as he glanced across the yard, Sid.

There was still time, he thought to himself, looking at the seemingly glistening grass and the soft breeze blowing through the scarce trees of the grounds. Alcohol could take a lot of blame and…

There was still time to deflect the whole thing, make it as if it never happened.

Sid hadn't even seen it.

Silence, but comfortable silence, had settled over them for a long moment before Arnold spoke, weighing his options carefully, rewording his sentence over and over. It didn't come out that way, of course, it never did. Arnold maybe shouldn't have grabbed another beer on his way out.

"Sid, are you in love with Helga?" He asked quietly, looking as far away from Sid as physically comfortable.

"I don't think so," Sid replied seemingly without need for thought, answer coming quicker than Arnold could have expected.

He waited for a moment for Sid to elaborate, to reassure him in his thoughts that, no, Arnold wasn't a heart breaker.

People never worked how Arnold expected, let alone, wanted them to. Things were never as simple as they seemed on paper, and if it were a novel, or- or a _story_ and everything were easy, Sid would have just said _no_. Every story he got told got more complicated every time he heard it and he just wanted to know the truth that everyone seemed to have gotten together and decided to keep from him. But it didn't feel intentional, though, not really. Feelings were just hidden in the cracks of forgotten pieces of time or details were lost to the main plot or people were excluded. But, Arnold, as much as he'd have like to fight against it, could not flatten Sid out into a character in Arnold's own life. Sid was just as complex as he was, or Helga or anyone else, and Sid, like Arnold, probably had feelings he barely understood himself. And Arnold had no option, but to sit there, in the cold, cold night, and accept it. Accept the I don't think so, accept the blunt, accept the leather jacket on the back of the chair, for exactly what it was. Life.

* * *

 _a/n get ready for another one of those wild nights in these kiddos lives. poor rhonda. sorry if ur just in fic for hardcore shortaki bc this is also largely about life and friendship and people... if that wasn't already clear...sorry!_

 _love love love u all, thank u very much if u leave reviews it really does mean the whole world._

 _xx. k._


	17. Chapter 17

"Holy shit," Mari breathed as they threw open the double doors to Rhonda's room- which had a couch in it. "It's the fucking Ritz." Helga laughed quietly, guiding Rhonda to her bed, which she collapsed on ungracefully. "Aight- don't let her puke on that beautiful ass carpet. I'm getting water- want anything?"

"I'll take a water," Lila watched Rhonda curl into her bedsheets with a sad expression. Helga shook her head at Mari who nodded and disappeared back out of the door. Rhonda fell…asleep, almost within seconds.

"Do y'all think she has-" Mari reappeared in the door, "nevermind, I'll find some."

Mari reappeared with cereal and milk and water and bowls and Rhonda was still asleep. Lila wasn't far off it herself, but Helga was rather insistent they stay awake and keep an eye on her.

"Sí-, _no_. No, espera- _qué_? Qué quieres decir- okay. Sí, bueno. No se suponía que _Darius_ debía hacerlo? Bien- y dónde está? Ay, _por supuesto_ que es, faltoso cabron de su pu- no. _Okay_ lo siento, mamá. Sí, sí, estaré allí. Sí, okay, _sí_ te lo prometo, a las tres estaré allí. Sí, lo sé, andaré con cuidado. Te quiero mucho, mamá, bye, okay- bye." She hung up, all but flinging her phone away from her, as if it burned her. "Fuck, I'm in trouble. Well, that's tomorrow's problem, then." "She should really wake up and drink this," Mari worried, biting her lip, glancing down at Rhonda.

"Give her a few moments," Lila yawned, "She won't get into a deep sleep, not yet."

When Rhonda did wake up, due to some unsubtle shaking on Mari's part, she was met with more tears. They exhausted Lila, just watching it happen. She was shaking hard enough to splash water from her cup on her bed. Lila was too tired, or maybe still a little drunk, to even notice how it happened. Rhonda was sitting up and taking sips of water…and then the emotional collapse had happened before her very eyes.

"I just-" she cried into her hand, "I feel so _lost_." Rhonda looked…awful, Lila thought, and she had one set of false eyelashes on her cheek. Lila didn't even want to look at her, let alone try and respond to her sobbing.

"I don't," she coughed, a gross hacking noise, "I don't belong there, I don't belong here. I don't belong anywhere-" more hacking. Lila laid down on the floor so she didn't have to look at it.

"So, go somewhere else," Helga shrugged, taking the water from her hand and setting it on her bedside table.

"That's so easy," Rhonda whined loudly, put her face in her hands, "coming from you, the living John Green character." She practically spit at Helga.

"Are you," Helga leaned forward, and Lila groaned inwardly, because now she had done it, "are you honestly trying to tell me that my life is _easy_?"

"Try living mine!" Rhonda shot back, she probably would have sounded more fiery if it weren't for all the tears…and the snot. Helga stood up then, like she had something to say and it wasn't going to exit her body sitting down.

* * *

Helga was on her feet but the ground wasn't a dictionary and words, her time-honored, her never disappearing, her never unwelcoming, words, had forsaken her. She stared at Rhonda, wanting to pull text out of her bed frame and sources from the wall paper and pick bolts of punctuation out of the carpet and use them all and the fire of her hatred to build a ladder for Rhonda to climb out of her tower. Her anger wasn't a muse at the moment, it was fog. It was thick and heedy and impossible to see through and Helga thought that if she had any super power it would be to stop time, but those weren't the words she wanted in her mind.

"When I was little," Mari hadn't spoke in so long Helga had forgotten she was in the room. "My dad used to watch this movie over and over." She didn't speak in the way Helga spoke in these situations. Helga drifted off, she spoke to the sky, or the wall, or anything other than her… _conversational_ partner. "And sure, maybe it had something to do with the fact we didn't have cable, but we had a VHS player and we certainly had that VHS tape."

Mari was staring straight at Rhonda.

"I was too young to understand it…" she licked her lips, "I didn't actually sit my ass down to watch it until I was…16, maybe 17."

Helga looked up and away because she was sure a window was opened and a draft had let the cool air into the room. It hadn't, Mari had just breathed it out of her lungs. Experience gave her that ability. She realized she had missed whatever she said, staring at Rhonda's chandelier- and finally glanced back to the girl creating winter with only her words.

"She…she gets to leave this man, this horrible awful man." Mari was leaned forward from her position sitting cross-legged on the floor, "And he runs after her, yelling at her about what she's gonna' do, how she can expect to do anything when she's…how she is." Helga found herself almost uncomfortable at Mari's lack of movement, how she hadn't stirred at all in her speech. Helga found herself fidgeting because of it, awkwardly, and she was embarrassed by it.

"And she stands up in the back of her friend's car, driving her away, and she shouts at him," Mari licked her lips and Helga knew whatever she was about to say was impactful in her life. She treated these figurative images- words, with the upmost respect "'I may be poor, I may be black, hell- I may even be ugly. But I'm here. Dear Lord- I'm here.'"

"You," Mari…didn't laugh, not really, but she exhaled a quick breath that had a whisper of mirth underneath it. Like when you try your hardest to erase something written in pencil, but it's still there. "You ain't none of those things."

"You have an opportunity that wasn't ever gonna knock on my door." She told Rhonda with astonishing solemnity. A small smile cracked in the corner of her mouth- like flowers that grew out of concrete, "I'm blessed to be the first one in my family to go to college. And I'm _proud_ of it, but, girl- I gotta tell you." Helga didn't know where to look again- so she looked up.

"You don't have to belong." Mari told her firmly.

"You're there."

Quiet, Helga had noticed, often settled over the room like a blanket of snow that the forecast had failed to properly predict. Perhaps surprised some, but not all, because winter is like that. You see it coming, but maybe perhaps not at that exact moment.

This quiet was different, because no one can make snow fall out of the sky, but Mari had. It was direct- it was calculated. It was meant to impact. As if Rhonda had encompassed a car speeding down a high way and Mari had touched the sky and stopped it with flurries of a weatherstorm. Helga didn't look back down to the ground till Mari spoke again.

"And," she had a furrowed brow, the most concentrated Helga had ever seen the girl look. "You have gotta learn to be more confident with the space you're going to take up in the world."

Helga never thought of Rhonda as insecure- well, that's not true. It had been a long time. It had been a long time since she thought of anyone in any way other than…them. She didn't often question people's motive on their actions, but accepted them as truth. Mari had not spent 6 hours with Rhonda and could probably deliver a full psychoanalysis.

Mari stared at Rhonda. Her expression stayed equally as even as it had the entire time she had spoke, "you're here."

The snow in the room had avalanched- Helga was finding it difficult to breath, or think or be properly. They sat like that and Helga had no idea how long it had been- but Gerald appeared in the door.

"Hey y'all-" he walked in to them staring around at each other "whaddup with you guys. Who died?" He joked, crossing the room to Mari who was sitting on the floor by the couch.

"No one-" she smiled then, warm sunshine to melt away the ice, "that's the point."

* * *

Gerald had very little clue exactly as to what the fuck he walked in on, but Helga sat down in the corner, looking incredibly pensieve. Lila looked like she was a good couple of minutes from completely passing out, and Mari had a little self-satisfied smirk on her face, so something had to have gone down.

"I think," Lila yawned from her spot on the floor, "I think one of the worst things we can do as people, is to think everyone else has gotten what they want out of life." She rolled over, away from the group, "I think that's probably pretty bad."

"Life is a friendship bracelet made of dreams and failures and compromises." Helga mused from the corner, looking like she had witnessed a murder.

Gerald had no idea why the room was so fucking serious, considering he just ran into a guy wearing a tutu and a gorilla mask downstairs that tried to get him to take his dick out, but he shut the fuck up and let the girls have their moment. He took his own compromise, by dragging Mari to sit up on the couch with him.

"Sometimes I think we make compromises we don't even know are compromises," Lila said quietly. "People." She stopped, and Gerald didn't know if they were supposed to respond or what but he wasn't doing well at contributing to this talk, "people do that, I guess. I think you make decisions you don't know are decisions. Or you give up and... yea- I guess."

"I think I've-" Helga started talking, but stopped. "Yeah. I don't know."

"I mean..." Gerald leaned forward, keeping his hands on Mari's back, "I guess so. I didn't want to go to HU, but...I'm at HU. I didn't really know when I was...14, I guess, that lettin' my dad put me in Football instead of basketball was a real decision." He licked his lips- another unconscious movement of time.

"I don't know, when I almost got thrown off the team in Junior year... I was like, well, if this happens, like, I'll get control back over it. Over what I wanna do, I mean. I mean, I'm not sayin' my dad was responsible for all of my shitty actions in high school. Like that one time I got trashed at the dance-"

"Didn't you like..." Lila giggled, "propose to Phoebe?"

He gave her a flat look. "Yea- I did, thanks for that." Helga snorted in the corner, "no but, forreal- like, that was fucked. And like, we fucked up we all knew it when we smoked before the game. Like, I don't know who went and said they made it up but, like." Gerald's head was spinning, words weren't as useful as he wanted them to be in the moment, "I don't know. I didn't really realize until then like...holy shit, I'm making decisions here when I pull shit like this. I'm directly impacting, like, me, you know?

Helga was staring at him.

"I didn't think I'd be goin' to school on a football scholarship. I wish I wasn't sometimes, no- that. That doesn't sound right, I'm thankful. I'm grateful, really I am. But, HU doesn't have Poli Sci and I thought...I thought that's kind of what I want- I don't know. I sound stupid as fuck. I'm gonna shut up."

He wanted someone to say he didn't sound stupid, or something, but they sat in silence.

* * *

Rhonda hadn't felt like speaking much since she had been spoken to, and was listening to another aggressive rehash about why Benny was the most underrated character from Stranger Things, which she hadn't actually gotten the opportunity to watch. She still felt sick, but was really thankful she hadn't puked, and the music downstairs was so loud, but it just wasn't on her mind to investigate. That is- until Eugene exploded through her doors.

"Did you guys-" a red faced Eugene appeared at the door "really think leaving Thad as the adult of the party was a solid idea?

"Who the fuck-" Rhonda sat up on her bed, eyebrows looking like they were being shoved by the rest of her face into her eyes "left Thad downstairs as the authority?!"

"It wasn't Gerald-" Gerald was attempting to hide himself behind his girlfriend, feigning a thin, airy voice, "Gerald definitely didn't do that."

"You-" Rhonda stood up quickly, jabbing a finger in his direction, "are idiot." She tripped over Lila's costume, stumbling.

"Don't kill yourself, Princess," Helga sighed, using her knuckles to push to her feet. Rhonda had already regained her ground and was storming out of the room. Helga rolled her eyes, but held out a hand to Lila and jerked her hand to indicate they were going to follow Rhonda anyway.

"Where have you been, man?" Gerald asked Eugene. Eugene pushed a hand through the curls that had been tugged loose, licking his lips and a roguish smile dancing on to his face.

His face was already pink- but the tips of his shoulders flushed. He winked at Gerald, who laughed out loud. "Ah fuck-" Gerald laid behind Mari, "ain't that somethin' man- do we get to ask w-"

"No."

"Who'd she even think was down there?" Helga hauled Lila to her feet, who had decided the floor was an excellent place to nap.

"Arnold." Gerald answered from behind Mari. "But he disappeared from downstairs before I did."

Helga's face screwed up in confusion "where the fuck did he get off to?" Lila drifted to the window, staring out at the trees behind her home.

"I think…" she tilted her head to the side "I actually think he's outside."

"I…" Helga stared around in horror at her peers, "am surrounded by a cornucopia of doltishness."

"Yea," Mari threw a pillow at her, "whatever Hazel Grace."

* * *

It was more chaotic downstairs than Lila was expecting, but the biggest issue seemed to be that somebody had thoroughly smashed the thermostat into the wall, and the room was steadily climbing in temperature. Well, it was the biggest problem for Lila, at least, who ditched the pumpkin suit upstairs because it was so warm and was currently just wearing a big old t-shirt and her tights.

She wasn't horribly concerned tho- the people downstairs were in worse varying states of undress. Rhonda was probably more concerned with the drum set formed with varying pots and pans from her cabinets, or the fact the main lighting grid was no longer on- and people had turned on lamps and held up cell phones. Lila hoped they didn't smash the lights as well. A girl was having an argument with her boyfriend by the door, and Lila wasn't one hundred percent sure, because it was so dark, but it didn't seem like she knew anyone below them at all anymore. They paused at the first landing of the steps, staring down in horror- someone, probably Helga, formulating a plan for getting these people the fuck out of the house.

"We should just call the cops," Eugene sighed, leaning over the bannister. "It's gonna be the only way."

Rhonda was downstairs, elbowing her way to the music table in an attempt to turn it off. Gerald groaned, putting his hand on his face, "I'm gonna have to bow the fuck out of here first if we do that. This fucking sucks, man- at least at college everyone lives within walking distance. I can't send these people to their cars."

"How," Lila asked quietly, "is it only 2:30 a.m." She glanced down at them, "that's…incredible."

"Okay," Helga stepped back from the banister, "I've got it." Lila turned back to face her, ready to listen to whatever she had decided. "We're all. Kind of sober, a little bit. I don't know. Doesn't matter- we're better equipped than those people.

"Eugene, you're wearing the most weather appropriate clothing- go get Sid and Arnold before they fucking die, we don't need that shit right now. Send them both up here before I murder both of them. If anyone sees Thad, send him up to me, I need him."

"Gerald and Mari- go collect alcohol. All of it. Take it by force if you need to. Smoke out rooms, turn on lights, break up any hot boxes, there are definitely-" she glanced over her shoulder "some going on."

"Lila," She glanced at her, looking every inch a military commander, "Rhonda is not getting through to that guy with the speakers-" She glanced down at the floor, that was right, she wasn't. "Figure out where they're plugged in, and get them unplugged."

* * *

"You're gonna be-" Helga was yelling at him before Arnold had even entered the room fully, "so fucking sick this week," she crossed the room to him, jabbing a finger into his chest, "and I'm not gonna have any pity." He had been sent in from the outside by Eugene, who had the decency to warn Arnold about Helga's current authoritarian attitude. He hadn't meant to be outside so long, not at all, but they had been enjoying doing nothing…together.

"Yes you are," he clumsily wrapped his arms around her waist, enjoying the warmth of her body on his, admittedly, very cold hands. She squirmed, probably because he was very cold. "You'll feel very bad and you'll nurse me back to life," he moved to kiss her.

She squirmed more and giggled while she did it and Arnold's heart melted into two separate pieces, "no!" She insisted, futile shifting away from him, "you are stupid and so you get nothing."

"I am stupid," he shrugged, holding her firmly. She glanced up at him- finally, "but I've got you."

"If I vomit and choke on it and die will you two stop," Sid whined from behind them. Arnold easily jumped a foot in the air. He had been sent in by Eugene, too, but Arnold had completely forgotten he followed him up. "I'm fucking kidding, Arnold, Jesus, man, don't have a heart attack." He untangled himself from Helga anyway, taking a sheepish step back.

"Plan, boss?" He asked her, diverting the subject away from him and Helga.

"Can my job be to go get food?" Sid asked, "I'll walk, but I'm dying."

"Ugh, Sid," She smacked a hand against her face, "yes, that can be your job."

"What's been your job, Tac?" He asked, ruffling his hair back, wincing at the leaves stuck in it.

"I'm calling the cab company to get people the fuck out of here." She looked down at her phone, "I think I succeeded. Rhonda is being…completely useless, and trying to just…shove people out of her house."

"I can't blame her-" Sid shrugged, "on my way up, I saw that one couch is like…completely fucked, I don't even know what got on it, but it's so nasty."

"Yes well," Helga licked her lips, "she can pay a cleaning company to take care of it in the morning."

"Hey!" Someone called out at them from outside on the balcony, and then, to Arnold's surprise, a red faced, shirtless, sweaty Thad jogged into the room. "I went downstairs to try and figure out how to stop the heating, but it's fucked." He pushed a hand through his hair, "shit's bad down there, but why haven't you guys turned on the lights?" He was sparkling and Arnold couldn't figure out if it was the sweat or actual glitter.

"I couldn't find the switch," Helga replied.

"Oh," Thad grinned, "that's easy, I got that, I'll go do that, and Arnold- if you keep staring at me I'm gonna assume we have something here."

Headlights poured in from the windows, and Helga glanced up at Arnold, "this is our job, let's get these people out of here."

* * *

Gerald was aghast at the pile of alcohol he and Mari had collected. He knew Rhonda was prepared…but damn, it was massive, and they threw it in one of the guest bedrooms upstairs, after Mari had smoked the people fucking in it out. He heard shouting as Helga, Arnold, Thad and Rhonda were all but shoving people into cabs, but the lights were on, the booze was gone, and the fun had evaporated from downstairs. Mari poured herself a cup in the corner.

"Gerald," she took a sip, "we have gotta stop hanging out with these white kids." He laughed out loud, then, wrapping himself around her, kissing her face a few times, "it's too bad I like them," she sighed.

Helga emerged in the room then, looking tired and frustrated, and like she needed a drink. Mari offered her her cup, which she accepted, and Gerald moved to get one of his own.

"Alright, y'all," He grabbed a bottle of something, pouring two, maybe three shots worth into a cup. "I'm taking a shower, now, because it's hot as actual hell in here."

"Rhonda's on the phone with a guy about it right now," Helga finished the cup. "Then it's the cleaning service. I…I don't know where everyone else is." He listened, a little bit, through the wall, at his girlfriend and Helga talking, but eventually he lost out to the sound of the water. When he reemerged, Mari was gone.

"Your girlfriend left us," Helga said as Gerald reopened the door to the bathroom, steam filling the already scorching room. "She went to find Lila and I don't know where they are."

Helga was flopped on the bed, wearing her bra and skirt, which barely brushed over her ass. Gerald observed her while rubbing over his hair with a towel. He smiled to himself, Arnold must have had excellent foresight for an eleven year old boy.

"I'm changing, Pataki." The room must have easily been in the nineties.

"Okay, gimme a few and then I'll be ready to worship that glorious body of yours." She mumbled straight into her pillow. Gerald laughed while he was pulling up boxers, and then a pair of gray sweatpants.

He fell on the bed on his stomach next to her, arm tossed over her tiny waist.

It felt good, casual, and good. It felt like things between them were the way they were meant to be.

Gerald had no idea that he felt like he was meant to be friends, best friends, with Helga G. Pataki.

He turned his face in towards hers. "Do you think Rhonda planned this?"

Helga's makeup-less face turned in, to his, eyebrows beginning to grow into each other at the inner corners. It managed to make her prettier. "Honestly? It's possible, but I doubt it. It's…legendary, though, I give her that." She reached up, scratching her fingers through his hair at the side of his head.

He laughed loudly.

"This whole night was so fucking stupid."

She wrinkled her nose up, before tossing her head back against the bed.

"You're 100% right," She laughed. "It is." She was laughing too, as she plopped down to lay fully on her back. Gerald's hand was splayed against her bare stomach.

"And where the fuck is Arnold?" He shoved his face, sweating again already, into the sheets.

"Haven't we been asking that question for 6 years?"  
"More like 16." Gerald mumbled. "Can't never fuckin' find that kid." There was a pause, and then Gerald pressed his hand on her stomach. "Did you ever think that he'd end up that tall?"

Helga laughed, really lightly, pressing her hot cheek into the sheets. "He's not taller than you." She replied.

"He's dangerously close."

"I'm tall." She said, wiggling a little. "For a girl."

"You're 5' 6" Gerald replied, face on it's side to look at her.

"I'm 5' 9"."

"Shit really?" His fingers could just barely reach to wrap around the side of her waist, but they did. "Shit, all short people look the same to me. Except Mari. Mari's a fucking hobbit."

She laughed again, then sighed a little. She rolled into Gerald, so she was back on her stomach, his whole arm on top of her.

"I heard that if a friendship lasts longer than 7 years, it lasts a lifetime." She whispered into his neck.

"Well, shit. That puts me and Arnold at life, you and Phoebe at life, and you and me? We got six years and ten more months to go." He knocked his head onto hers.

"You never considered us friends?" She mocked surprise, tossing her hair that was sticking to her behind her. She dropped her shoulder to lean on her side, arm tucked under her head. "Come on, Gerald. I was always checking in on you. I _remember_ that Sophomore year dance. _I_ was the one who kept you from getting kicked off the team in Junior year."

"Were you really?" He sat up a little, in surprise. She nodded at him with a grin. "Did you do it for me, or for…" He nodded at the door.

"I really don't know," She said honestly, tucking her head back on her arm. "I would normally say I did it for him, but at that point in time I was drawing a new face in my books." She shrugged. "I don't know if it's gonna be a lifetime, Gerald, I really don't. But I do think you're the smallest bit stuck with m-" she got cut off because his arm curled around her fiercely, as he flipped himself around, pushing himself around. They landed with him on his back, Helga curled up on his chest.

"Thank you," he whispered into her hair. "I'm sorry. About everything."

It sat in the minimal space in between their legs, the only space left between them. The feeling of forgiveness. The realization that maybe the biggest apology they had to give, wasn't to Phoebe, certainly wasn't to Arnold, but to each other. It lived in the little space in between them, it festered in it. It was growing into Helga's toes, in the muscle in Gerald's calf.

She felt a kiss press into her hair.

"I'm sorry too, Gerald." She whispered into his chest, pressing her face into it.

His hold on her tightened.

She didn't know when the tears collected at the corner of her eyes, she had no idea.

She wondered why she had waited to do this drunk, but she was glad to have a reason they were there.

But she knew the reason. The _real_ reason. She knew the years of pent up frustration and anger and loss just ate away at her, before she just let it go. She knew they had no closure, on any of them. _Any_ of the four of them. They were just _kids,_ as much as they didn't want to admit it. Normal kids didn't feel so passionately, didn't judge so harshly, and forgot much more easily.

Then again, she recalled them jumping off a waterfall, so they never really were _normal_ kids to begin with. She laughed into his chest a little, knowing that he felt the little drops of tears falling from her eyes. His hold on her tightened again. He pressed his face into her hair.

"You deserve," She wondered if it was just her imagination, or if his face was slightly damp, "So much more than Hillwood, Helga G. Pataki."

"So do you," she agreed, looking up at him, glad she had taken her makeup off. She wiggled a hand through his hold to wipe at her eye. "promise me you'll look into transferring."

"I-"

"Promise me, Gerald." She held out her pinky. "You can have so much more in this life."

He linked pinkies with her. "Okay." He blinked at her, tears at the corners of his eyes. "Fuck, I don't cry."

"Yeah," she said, as his hand came up to brush away her own tears, massive thumb on her face. "Me either."

They laughed then.

At each other, sweat collecting with tears.

At the circumstances, them sharing a bed in a Rhonda's house, of all people, no one really wanting to be there and at the same time, no one wanting to go home.

"Hey, will you tell me something?" She wiggled so she was fully laying on him, tummy to tummy, her whole body not coming close to covering his. He was a big man, she was a small woman.

"What?" She dug her chin into his chest.

"I've been calling you Helga G. Pataki for 16 years. And I have no idea what the G. stands for." He pressed his thumbs into the small of her back.

"The G?" Her eyebrows knit together. It made her seem extremely reminiscent of her younger self, so Gerald grinned. "The G stands for Geraldine."

His eyebrows shot up. "You've got to be fucking kidding me."

"No?" She sounded incredulous. She put her hands on the bed on either side, next to his ribcage. She pushed up from him, wishing that the loss of body heat would make her less hot. "Why would tha-"

"Gerald- _ine_?!"

The realization hit her like a dump truck. And she laughed so hard she fell to the side, and subsequently, off the bed. He laughed too, looking down at her with worry, but laugh still raking through him.

"Shit, are you okay?'

"Yeah I'm fine. _Fuck_ , why am I so _fucking_ clumsy?"

He could only laugh harder

Sid picked that particular moment to stroll into their room, taking in the sight of Gerald, shirtless, laying on rumpled sheets, Helga, also shirtless, skirt hiked up around her thighs, on the ground. Both cackling.

"What is going on here, and why do I feel like I need to tell Arnold about it?" He asked, eyebrows practically in his hair line.

And that only made them laugh harder.

* * *

 _a/n been a tough week y'all. hoping to keep up w/ the schedule with this even though i fell behind. so i'm hoping to update on friday - fingers crossed. there's still quite a bit to go for this night even. welllllp._

 _a big ol thank u and hug to mikosarthouse on tumblr who not only draws beautiful images all the time but also helped me w/ mari's spanish in this chapter. very much love to her she is wonderful check out her art if you haven't already._

 _love u all, talk later._

 _xx k._


	18. Chapter 18

Phoebe was fairly sure that organic chemistry could not actually melt her brain into literal mush, but it sure felt like it was giving it it's best go at it. She rolled her neck back, shoving her glasses on to the top of her head with a frustrated sigh. She wanted to go out with her friends from down the hall, she really did, but she didn't know how anyone thought they could afford this partying with more than a few midterms happening the next week. She put her feet on the floor for the first time in hours. She had broken her own rules, and was studying in her bed. But she couldn't study in the closed library, and she couldn't handle the pitying looks the staff at Starbucks were giving her. She rolled her shoulders back, groaning at the cracks in her joints, and flexed out her feet and knees, which were aching from the sudden pressure of holding her up. She checked her phone she left on her dresser while studying, grinning at a few 'miss you' texts from friends. She giggled at the snap story she was included in, through a window, as her friends left the dorm, 'when bae loves her text book more than you' with a broken heart emoji. It was almost 2:30 in the morning, and Phoebe decided it was probably time to hit the hay, instead of suffering through watching other people have fun on snapchat. She'd go out tomorrow, on actual Halloween, but she couldn't do both nights in a row- not with her study schedule.

For kicks, though, she wanted to see her friend's completed looks, and she clicked on her Instagram icon.

The first photo on the top of her feed boasted over 250+ likes, and it was…all people Phoebe knew, actually. It was posted by the only person in the photo she followed, Lila. "nights you'll never remember with the people you'll never forget," was the caption followed by "taken by TheJakepete." The first comment was from an account name 'notasquid' and it was just a collection of emojis. The second was 'hgpataki' and it said "i have pumpkin in my hair and i hate all of you."

Phoebe had no idea how to take the photo itself, as it was a genuinely extremely bizarre sight to behold, in and of itself, let alone if you factored in a few of the people in it weren't on explicit speaking terms just…months before it was taken.

In the dead center was Helga, arms crossed, making a somewhat pouting face. She was wearing a skirt and a zipped blue bomber jacket, with her hair on a bun on the top of her head. On either side of her, Lila, in a pink kigurumi, and Arnold, looking straight out of the 80's, both leaned in to kiss her cheeks. Just a few feet behind them, was Gerald with a girl on his shoulders, whom Phoebe vaguely remembered from High School, who was also…wrapped in Christmas lights. Gerald also had his chin tucked on top of Eugene's curly red hair, whom seemed to barely be able to contain his laughter, the visible half of his face cherry red and the other half tucked into his hand. He was wearing a yellow sweater and Phoebe had no idea what he was supposed to be, or Gerald, because most of his body was covered by Eugene. On the other side was Sid, with an enormous cheesy grin on his face with what looked like…Thad Gammelthorpe in his arms…bridal smile, who was dramatically swooning backwards…putting his head in the hands of a rather non-plussed looking Rhonda Wellington-Lloyd. Their costumes were practically indistinguishable, but Thad was shirtless. Phoebe had never heard any of them mentioned in the same sentence together, let alone be mentioned as friends.

For a moment, and only a moment, Phoebe's heart, certainly not her mind, longed to be in Hillwood.

She then put her phone down and promptly, thank you, shut that thought the fuck down. She had no idea why exactly the stars aligned the way they did to put them all back together in the same house that night, but she did know the stars had a damn good reason for not including her in the group.

She blinked out her window at a pack of girls tumbling back into the door, laughing as they fell sloppily into each other.

These were the people who got drunk and talked about their dreams. They made picture boards and made plans they had no intention of following through on. They used the words like 'maybe,' and 'someday,' like names, like they were definite things that had places in their lives, instead of the figurative imaginary images they were. She shut her blinds, and thought to herself as she fiddled with them that she was going to go out and do the _work_ her dreams required- thank you _very_ much.

And when she turned around and stared at the paper-work she had to clear off her bed to go to sleep, she ignored the way her heart sank, just ever so slightly.

* * *

Sid had very little idea whether he was actually witnessing Gerald and Helga laughing while mutually shirtless or if he was just really high.

"I'm." He stopped, and ran his fingers through his hair, which was almost touching his shoulders, and he really needed a hair cut, "I got food. It's downstairs." It was so fucking hot in the house now- Sid was only in it for like 10 minutes and he could feel his clothes sticking to him.

"If you loved me," Gerald told him, while shuffling back on the covers, "you would bring it up here. My legs are tired."

Helga was making moves toward what Sid could only assume was a bathroom.

"I'm not doing those stairs again," Sid countered, leaning back against the door, "whoever designed this house must love cardio."

Helga snorted, finding the shirt she was mussing around looking for. She disappeared into the bathroom with it in hand,

"Okay, fine," Gerald pouted, rolling over on the sheets, "send someone who loves me up with some."

"So…Arnold?" Sid replied.

Gerald had this laugh that always kind of sounded like shouting, and he did so into the bed. "Yea," He laughed under his breath, "Mari's not gonna walk her ass up here."

Helga reemerged from the bathroom, this time wrapped in a towel. Sid frowned for a moment, because she looked thinner than she normally did. He wondered, for a moment, if she was eating enough. A few loose articles of clothing were gripped in one of her hands.

"Helga," he asked her as she stared blankly around the room for a moment, "what the fuck are you doing?"

"I…" she drifted off, "I don't know." She laughed, smacking a hand on her face, the one not holding up her towel, "fuck- I'm more drunk than I think I was- wait, what? No. That didn't make sense- I am drank more…for fucking-"

Sid grabbed her shoulders. "Go shower, for the love of God, Tac."

She leaned up, ever so slightly, to kiss his cheek. "Always lookin' out for me, Squid." She tapped his nose. He laughed under his breath- because Helga was never affectionate with him unless intoxicated. He watched her shut the bathroom door with a bemused expression.

"Hey Sid-"

"Yea, Ger?"

"Wanna go get me so-"

"No."

* * *

Arnold pushed his way into the room with two bottles of water in his hands twenty minutes later, because he and Sid got distracted downstairs by Lila choosing to sleep in a…unidentifiable liquid. After quick coercing, Sid decided he would make the trip back upstairs, and would bring some food up behind Arnold.

"We're going out, man!" A pretty straight-up drunk Gerald still wasn't wearing a shirt. Helga was pretty clearly half asleep, fumbling around audibly in the bathroom. One of Arnold's favorite things about drunk Gerald was his tendency to make nonsensical plans with basically anyone in the generally vicinity.

"Out?" Arnold quirked an eyebrow. "How do you anticipate doing that?"

He could only assume he meant something akin to a club- despite it being well into the hours of the morning. Arnold certainly didn't have a fake i.d. on him, he wouldn't doubt Gerald having one, and Helga and Sid probably did have them.

"Uh, man, I hate to break it to you, but-"

"Oh, goddamnit!" Helga appeared around the door frame, arm pressed firmly over her tits, other hand holding the half a towel around her waist. Her hair was wet, and regretfully, so was the rest of her. "Have either of you seen my fucking bra?" Strands of hair fell into her face, water catching in every nook and cranny. She shone unnaturally.

"You didn't bring it in?" Arnold's face was traitorously heating up. Gerald laughed.

"Hold up, I totally did, lemme help. Wasn't it lavender or some shit?"

"I was gonna go for purple, Gerald, but if we want to be pansies, sure," She snorted, "It's fucking lavender."

It was half tucked under the bed. He threw it at her. "Cover up, for Christ's sakes, Pataki, before Arnold here explodes."

"I was not going to-"

It hit Helga in the side before she realized she didn't actually have a hand to catch it with.

"Thanks," She drawled, "Real helpful, Geraldo." She kicked it into the bathroom before turning around to walk back in. "Cheers, Arnold." She _winked_ at him. The door shut.

Arnold walked a few feet forward, and flopped on the bed. "Has she always been like this?" He moaned into the covers.

Gerald laid next to him. "I've known this Helga for just about as long as you have, Arnold. Don't ask me nothin'."

They heard a smack on the wall, and Arnold jumped up.

"Hey IDIOTS-" she called through the wall "QUIT DISCUSSING ME."

"Oh, yeah," Arnold sat up. "How were you planning on us getting in anywhere?"

Gerald sat up next to him, smacking a hand on his shoulder. "Like I said, I hate to break it to you, but when you've got a chick who looks like that, they won't ask for I.D."

"Whoa, man, you're talking about my girlfriend here." He joked back.

The smack was back. "I'M NOT YOUR FUCKING GIRLFRIEND, ARNOLD."

"Oh yea," he felt a teasing smile play at his lips, despite her not being able to see him. "Are you breaking up with me, then?"

"NO!" She sounded exasperated, and Gerald was laughing already. "YOU CAN'T BREAK UP WHAT DOESN-"

"What do you want for our sixth anniversary, darling?"

She all but _screamed_.

"In truth, it'd be better if we had two girls." Gerald said. "Damn, if only Lila would agree to come."

Arnold shook his head. "Lila would never come." Lila was basically asleep the last time he was downstairs "We probably could have Rhonda, though." He stood up, walked across the room and leaned against a wall. He had no formal clue of why he was indulging this plan at all, as he wasn't going to let it happen, but he was enjoying watching Gerald be enthused about it.

"Oh my god," Gerald groaned. "We couldn't do that to ourselves."

"That bad?" Arnold asked.

"You have _no_ idea."

"No idea of what?" Sid walked into the room, jacket thrown over his shoulder haphazardly, other hand full of food. He had on a flashy watch that Arnold hadn't noticed before.

Arnold frowned at him. "Sid is pretty. Sid could pass."

Gerald cackled. Sid blanched. "I'm _what now_?"

"Hey Pataki-" Gerald called, "Toss me back the bra real quick?"

She stuck her head out of the bathroom, half dried hair flying around her oddly, bra on her body. "Not on your life."

"Were you gonna…" Sid looked back to them with realization. "Aw man, fuck you guys." He grabbed his jacket with his free hand and promptly smacked Arnold with it. "I'm fucking 5' 10"."

"So is Rhonda." Arnold noted, and Sid promptly smacked him with the jacket again.

* * *

The four of them managed to wander downstairs again eventually, the curiosity got to them too much because it sounded like…Lila and Thad were screaming the lyrics to Wake Me Up by Wham! for…whatever bizarre reason. When they got to the landing, it was true, Lila was now wearing what looked like a fuzzy pink…dinosaur…jumpsuit, oneside, costume…thing, Helga didn't know what it was, and Thad had half of his jumpsuit undone and tied around his waist, the rest of him shirtless, all but screaming to a rather unenthused Rhonda and Eugene who were sitting on the floor. Mari and Stinky were leaned on each other, fast asleep, on the couch that wasn't covered in an atrocious liquid.

"WAKE ME UP, BEFORE YOU GO GO-" And Lila was on a table, "DON'T LEAVE ME HANGING ON, LIKE A YO-YO," Helga wrapped her arms over Arnold's shoulders, behind him on her tippy-toes, pressing her cheek into his upper arm, chest shaking with amusement. "WAKE ME UP-" Thad had a really impressive air guitar going for him, and Arnold's hands covered hers, and Lila was attempting to do ballerina spins on the table and Eugene cracked into a laugh for the first time since the routine had started and things were…alright, really, in Helga's heart. Maybe even good. They were.

"YOU'RE UP!" Lila shouted at her from the table, with an exuberant wave. Helga didn't have the heart to tell her they never were asleep. "COME ON, EVERYBODY, YOU PROMISED I COULD TAKE A PICTURE." Lila made a risky, but impressive jump from the table to bounce on the couch Mari and Stinky were asleep on "GET UP!" She bounced.

Thad kept singing. "TAKE ME DANCING TONIIGHT-" He dramatically pointed at Arnold, and winked. Arnold laughed.

Things were good.

"YOU PUT THE GRAY SKIES OUT OF MY WAY, YEAH! YEAH! YOU MAKE THE SUN SHINE BRIGHTER THAN DORIS DAY-" Lila resumed sing-screaming while bouncing.

* * *

It was close to four a.m. according to Sid's watch, and he was once again on the floor with Lila, in a circle of teenagers.

"Where did you-" He muttered to Lila, fiddling with the hem of her sleeve, "where di you even get this?"

"I found it." She shrugged, "someone must've ditched it when the heat turned on."

And the heat was definitely still on, it was so hot in the bedrooms that they felt the need to congregate in the coolest space- the open air of the living room. They opened the windows upstairs, in attempt to air out the bedrooms so they could crash there soon.

It looked like the decision to crash was already made by some of them, though. On their left was Gerald, leaned back into the couch, and coincidentally, into Stinky's thigh, who was sleeping on the couch. Mari was curled into Gerald's chest like a small cat. Across the circle, Eugene was laying on the floor on his side, Curly propped up behind him, head on his palm leaned up on his elbow, using his other hand to run his fingers through the sleeping Eugene's hair while having a somewhat serious looking discussion with Rhonda.

Helga and Arnold, Sid just noticed, were gone.

He didn't particularly feel like being worried about it, and he was feeling brave, so he flopped down to lay next to Lila, dropping her hand from her sleeve to her fur covered stomach, drumming his fingertips on it lightly.

She giggled a little bit, before asking "Sid?"

"Yea, Lila?" He realized how much of her hair was in his face. That normally annoyed the fuck out of him when it was Cass or Helga, but when it was Lila, it didn't matter in the slightest.

"What are the odds, do you think, of all of us staying friends?"

"You know what?" Sid pushed up above her, looking down at her. "I don't know- but I really hope they're high." He just realized how patchy her makeup had become, she had a large swipe of her foundation completely gone from her chin, revealing a small set of break outs. Sid didn't care in the slightest.

He could practically see the chandeliers behind his head glowing in her eyes and he wanted to kiss her so, so badly- but Sid…Sid was bad with that stuff and so he did a pencil roll out of their position, really in an attempt to make her laugh.

He succeeded, and he looked over at her, knotty hair and bright eyes and hands with stains on them, and thought she deserved a first kiss that wasn't in a room full of other people after being quite intoxicated, anyway.

* * *

"What are we doing today-" Helga yawned while sitting on the Lloyd's marble counter. Arnold was, gracefully, going through their cabinets in the search of a first aid kit, to help with the cut on Helga's knee that neither of them had any idea where it came from. She would have been alarmed at the astute couple-y-ness of the question were she less tired, but she was exhausted and happy and mildly delirious.

"I don't know-" he answered, reaching high for a little cabinet up top. "I was kind of thinking about going to Mom and Dad's," he got a little box out, which Helga could only assume was what they were looking for, "you know, we haven't spent a holiday apart since…well, you know." He put the box on the counter next to her, opening it to rifle through for some bandaids.

"Yeah," she grinned, "I do." _But where does that leave me_ , she asked in her head quietly.

"If you want to invite Lila or Sid or," he glanced around the corner through the open corridor at their friends "Rhonda, I guess," He laughed to himself, "back to the house, it's fine? I might leave for Mom and Dad's straight from here, actually." He glanced up at her.

The house, she rolled the term around in her mind, not my house, or, god forbid, our house. _The house_ she could handle.

"Okay," she shrugged as he unwrapped the band-aid, pressing it on to her knee. "I'll do that, then."

"Good," He grinned up to her, planting his hands by either side of her thighs. "Can I kiss you now?"

She rolled her eyes, grabbing the front of his dumb 80's sweater, "are you going to ask me that every time?"

"Well, I don't know, I don't normally go around kissing girls who aren't my girlfriend without aski-" He teased, but she interrupted him, wrapping her arms around his neck,

"Come here, stupid."

He obliged. Happily, even.

* * *

They fell asleep in bizarre patterns when they migrated upstairs, mostly by who got to what room first. Jake stayed on the couch downstairs, as no one wanted to disturb what seemed like a deep sleep. Rhonda, Lila and Mari all in Rhonda's bed, Eugene on the couch in there, Helga and Sid sharing a twin bed in the guest room and Thad in the adjacent one, with Gerald and Arnold in their own room.

This, of course, led to more jokes at their expense when they woke up, at midday, of course, as the gang had pretty much decided that the real couple of their new forming group of friends, was actually Gerald and Arnold.

Rhonda's parents room had been locked up for the entire night, as was probably best, as she had tossed all of the valuables and breakables in there as well, as she did before every party.

"Yeah, I mean-" Jake yawned as he leaned back against the wall. Rhonda had actually let in the cleaning crew early that morning- as well as her heating guy, who was still working downstairs but obvious party offenses were gone, but there was still a ton of stuff to put away. Rhonda was unlocking the door with the key she hid in the bannister of her bed, which also locked her own closet, much to Helga's amusement. "I knew when he was coming back that I was in danger of losing my best friend card, but I didn't think Mari had anything to worry about-"

Arnold laughed good-naturedly, leaning onto Gerald's arm. "What can I say," he yawned, "love is love." Mari shrugged, and grabbed on to Lila instead.

"Ugh-" Thad moaned, leaning on to Eugene dramatically, "it's like he's leading me on on purpose," He whined to his friend, who batted him off with a tired smile.

Helga snorted as Rhonda unlocked the door, expensive lamps and paintings propped up on each other in an expansive red and gold master bedroom. Lila wasn't sure if the Lloyds knew the things they had in their house could probably make up a small museum.

"Wow," Sid said, "I'm pretty sure the shit in this room has more value than my entire extended family's possessions put together."

"Ugh-" Rhonda groaned, "this is going to take forever." Lila laughed then, and stepped forward, intending on at least getting everyone started.

* * *

Lila pulled up to Helga's house two hours and many heavy objects later, her actual house, and she got out her set of keys in the passenger seat, picking out the right one so that she could spend the least amount of time outside possible. Bob's car was in the driveway, and it was a weekend, so she expected that anyway, but… she still wanted a moment to mentally prepare for it.

"Helga," Lila asked carefully, still wearing the outfit she picked up last night, "are you sure it's okay to go in-"

"Lila," she replied kindly, "it's fine. Trust me, we just don't get along. That's it."

She didn't even know what Bob was going to do with himself that day- Halloween. Probably sleep, or something, she wasn't sure.

She hopped out of the car, feeling the weight of Arnold's house key in her other pocket, ignoring whatever emotion that was giving her, and strode up to her house. She was successfully through the door and at the foot of the stairs without a hiccup, but then she heard the time-honored creaking of the terrible linoleum floors, and Bob was staring at her from around the corner.

"Helga," He breathed a sigh of relief. She wondered for a moment if he thought she was a thief- which would be a real joke, because they had nothing valuable in that house.

"…dad." She replied with a cordial nod. She put her foot on the step, and wanted to just dash up them.

Her dad walked around the corner…he was thinner than she remembered him being. His face was sunken into itself, and his shoulders were less broad for lack of muscle. He had a cup of coffee in one hand and a set of papers in another. He was wearing a tie, which was odd, as he was now the Executive Team Leader for a Target store in their mall for Logistics…and he wore red and khaki to work now, never ties.

"Have you been," he looked oddly back and forth, not directly at her. She and her father were…exactly alike, in some ways, "have you been safe?"

"Uh," she leaned forward,taking her first step onto the steps, pushing her stomach on the bannister. "Yeah, Dad."

He nodded, taking a good look at her for the first time. His eyes started at her ankles, raking all the way up her body to her nose. She could practically feel the scratch they had on her.

"Are you eating? You…you look thin as all hell, Helga."

She and her dad were nothing alike, in some ways.

She would have never pointed out his gauntness. She gripped her hands on the bannister, trying to keep her anger where it belonged, under her skin, and her father where he belonged, not under her skin.

"Yeah, Dad. I am. I could say the same for you," She fought to keep her tone casual, "is the suit supposed to be your costume? It's Saturday." She arched her eyebrow. Her comment was sassier than she intended it be.

"I, I'm on my way to work." He looked down at his own outfit.

"Did Target change it's policies?" She asked.

"I picked up a third job, Helga." He told her quietly and firmly.

She didn't know what to say to that, her hands went lax on the bannister. She hadn't even realized there was a second one.

"Are you gonna be home tonight?" He asked her then, quickly diverting the subject, taking a sip of the coffee in his mug, "I have some candy from last year, if you wanted to hand it out to tric-"

She didn't hear the end of his sentence, as she promptly ran upstairs, and slammed her door shut.

* * *

Lila knew better than to ask what happened when Helga ran out to the car and slammed the door of her little sedan quite harshly.

lila 4:12  
did not go well  
i don't think

Lila sent the text and set her phone in the console in between the seats. "Ready to go?" She asked quietly to the seething Helga, who nodded, clothes balled up against her chest. She didn't check for the response until they got to Arnold's house, Helga letting them in with the key he took off his keys to give her.

sid 4:13  
yea  
i could have told you that would happen

* * *

"Do you eat this shit all the time?" Rhonda giggled as the cheese dripped across her chin. "I mean, I'm sorry, that's not what I meant." She was laying flat on her stomach on Helga's bed, trying to scoop most of the greasy pizza into her mouth. Lila sat on the couch in the corner, tongue out as she furiously finished her text.

"It's fine," Helga giggled, tossing her a napkin from her spot on the floor. She lay on her back, looking up out through the skylight. "I used to. Arnold doesn't really keep it in the hous-" She stopped herself, wiping across her mouth. "God, that sounded weird."

Rhonda groaned. "I can't believe that. Not Arnold, you. I always wanted your body." She admitted honestly.

"You're kidding me." Helga deadpanned, rolling to lean up on an elbow.

"It's true!" Rhonda nodded, smile pulling across her face. It was odd, Helga thought. Helga saw the girl in her absolute best, her hair was always done, her clothes were wrinkle free. Helga somehow thought the girl was much more fetching the way she looked in that moment. No makeup, her hair pulled up into a little ponytail, Helga's sweatpants rolled up at the hem on her. It wasn't so much the _look_ , it was the lack of _guard_. She let her nose wrinkle when she smiled. She talked without the weird, airy accent she so often fronted. She was so much more engaging. Helga had no idea what to expect when she invited her over, as Sid decided to go hang out with Gerald and Stinky and Mari had to be home, but she had asked what the dress code was.

"Huh," Helga muttered. "Weird, I always wanted to look like Lila."

"Oh, that's got to be a joke," Lila shut her phone off, tossing it on Helga's bed. She gracefully laid next to Rhonda, letting her hair fall over the edge. "I weigh at least 30 more pounds than you, and you're taller than me! And I'm a _cheerleader_."

"Yeah, but you're _thick_ ," Rhonda drawled.

" _Curvy_ ," Helga added in the same drawling tone. "Trust me, Lila, like, everyone wanted to be you."

"Or be _with_ you." Rhonda winked.

"Ugh, don't remind me." Helga rolled back over, to stare up through Arnold's, or her's, she wasn't sure yet, skylight. "Story of my _life_."

"Hey-," Lila started in a don't-talk-about-yourself-like-that tone, but Helga held up an indignant finger.

"Oh, hell no, don't _hey_ me," Helga used that finger to count on, "Arnold,"

"That was fourth gra-" Lila began, but Helga shooed her off,

"Sid," she held up another finger,

"you could have had Sid if you wanted hi-" Rhonda tried to reason, but Helga ignored her too.

" _Cass_ ," She finished, holding up a third finger.

"Cassidy?" Lila's eyebrows shot into her hairline, "Cassidy had a crush on me?"

"Ugh," Helga rolled over onto her tummy, "don't even get me started-"

Rhonda laughed into her pizza.

"Huh," Lila made a small humming noise from her spot the couch, musing, "that's interesting, I never thought tha-"

"Lila," Helga sat up quickly, "don't you fucking dare- I will kill you."

Lila threw back her head and laughed and Helga's shoulders felt lighter for the first time since she entered her house. Of course, the Cass thing was always really a joke, as the three of them had decided that Lila was hot as a group, but _still_.

Lila and Rhonda had launched into a hair care conversation and Helga was lying on her back, thinking about the past.

About Sid and Cass- whom she really ought to call, tomorrow at least, about…high school. Her Dad… whom she hadn't had a conversation that wasn't a screaming match with in…years, and the box she found under the sweatpants she was looking for in her closet.

It was a funny box to be thinking of in that particular room, considering it was all…Arnold memorabilia. She had almost thrown it out during the move, but Sid picked it up, and tucked it into her closet…she still never really knew why he did it.

She had almost opened it, knowing it was just packed to the brim with letters and poetry and paintings she made. She remembered, sitting there on his floor, dismantling the creepy ass monument she had made, with a wry little grin. She took it apart almost half way through fifth grade. She didn't really know why- she just did. She started painting instead. It was less…obviously psychotic. She still had the broom that made up the majority of his hair.

She used to be…quite the creative little girl. She hadn't really taken the time to do anything like that anymore. She hadn't written, hadn't painted, hadn't danced- even, after the move. Everything in her life got darker and colder after the move, but she hadn't particularly noticed. Actually, she hadn't noticed at all.

She recalled back to her English teacher from senior year, playing a clip of Steve Job's commencement speech where he talked about connecting the dots backward, to what got them there. To where they were sitting, standing, whatever- today.

What got her to furiously standing staring at a little box in her closet, goosebumps visible after a simple talk with her father, she couldn't exactly define into dots. She thought about recent dots, about yelling at Arnold last weekend and sitting in Sid's dorm and none of them were easily connectable, but…they were connected, nonetheless.

"Yeah, I mean-" Lila was saying, and Helga realized she had tuned out the entire conversation, "I got it from my mama," She twirled a tendril of her thick, dark, loosely curled hair around her finger, "it tangles really badly. That's why after, you know-" she shuffled forward in her seat, "after she passed away, that's why I always had it braided. It was the only thing Dad could do that would keep it from tangling, because I used to cry and cry when he tried to brush it out." She pushed a hand back through it, and shrugged, "I figured out the rest on my own in middle school. Thank God for YouTube," she laughed.

Helga blinked, staring at the happy Lila. How everyone always seemed to miss the dot of Lila's life that included a mother.

"I learned a lot of…girly things on there, I guess," Lila leaned back against the couch. "Me and Dad never had it easy, but" she shrugged again, "he never gave up on me, so I never gave up on him."

"I actually learned a lot on Youtube too, but that's because-" Rhonda had started, but Helga tuned her out as well.  
Helga shut her eyes, screwed them together tightly, and tried to ignore Job's voice in her mind…about connecting the dots forward. She couldn't stay angry the way she was…that was never going to get her to the dots she wanted to be at. Giving up on…giving up on Bob had certainly got her to where she was sitting- and she…didn't mind that. She didn't mind where she was: sitting on Arnold's floor, oddly enough. But she couldn't stay getting angry like she did, feeling nothing at all and then random bursts of emotion, or detached from people the way she always was. There was a dot in her life that she always avoided, but she couldn't avoid it any longer.

She had to go home.

She just _had_ to.

* * *

Arnold jogged up to the front of his house a little past 11 a.m., expecting to need to knock or something, or call Helga, because he didn't have his key. But as soon as he was at the bottom of his steps, the door swung open, and Helga was standing there, a nonplussed cat asleep by her feet. She had her hair in an intricate braid, and a somewhat sullen expression. Or, at least, not the expression he was expecting. She was wearing her work uniform with a massive knitted sweater over it.

"Hey," he greeted her from the bottom of the steps, "how was your night?" He asked, shoving his hands in his pockets. She had hers by her side.

"Um," She looked off to the side, "fine."

"What's uh," he faltered, taking a step up on his steps, "up?" He trotted up a few more, before stopping cold. A few feet behind her was an over-stuffed duffle bag, more specifically, the one she had brought into his house in the first place. He didn't mean to stare at it, but he couldn't not.

"I've got work now." Helga told him, pretending to not notice his stare at the duffle.

"I know that," Arnold replied softly, glancing up at her. "What's really up?" He continued walking up the steps so they were on the same platform. "Did Lila," he cracked a joke light-heartedly, "convince you to run away with her, or something?" He grinned at her.

"Oh," she glanced over her shoulder, faking surprise at her bag, as if she hadn't packed it and put it there, "I'm uh-" she swallowed, "I'm gonna go home, now," she scratched at her neck, "well, not now now, but after work, now, I mean- I guess." She stammered, taking a step back from him.

"Did I do something wrong?" He asked tenderly, feeling his eyes squint with worry. He didn't know how he fucked up from 12 miles away but …he must have done something.

"What?" She asked incredulously, "no," she shook her head, "it has nothing to do to with you." Her face was crinkled with…disgust almost.

"Helga," He spoke crossly, "it can't have nothing to do with me." He moved to shut the door, as he didn't need the neighbors hearing him, well…not yell at her, but speak so harshly. She blocked him, pushing her hand out firmly on the wood, so the door stayed open.

"Arnold," Her eyes had fallen into a soft, concerned expression for a moment. It was there and then it was gone as soon as he blinked. When he looked down at her, it was like Medusa had visited in the blink of his eye, and he was watching a stone, cold Helga wrap her bag over her shoulder, "we aren't _really_ dating."

He knew, when he started this, that this was going to bite him. He knew it- he knew it. He had done it anyway and he told himself he was prepared for the repercussions.

He also knew he was a filthy fucking liar and wasn't prepared for this at all, especially not today.

He didn't know what he wanted her to say 'this isn't me breaking up with you,' or 'i just have something i need to do' would have been better- anything would have been better than what came out of her mouth.

He looked down at her hard expression, distraught, because it felt like, as he stared at the hard set of her eyebrows, like she said it to hurt him, because she knew it would. He thought back to when he sent her over 100 letters before giving up, how sometime he wondered if she had not replied on purpose to hurt him, like he had hurt her by leaving. He got the same flurried fear, striking him and leaving almost as quickly as it came, that he was inherently wrong about Helga, and she was every inch as vindictive and cruel as he once thought she was.

"Fine," He set his jaw into a hardline, turning away from her, into his own home, which had none of the warm comfort it used to. He heard the creak of the door behind him, probably the final sign of her leaving, and he spoke under his breath.

"You just love being miserable, don't you?" He muttered to himself. He thought for one, dark moment, that she did. That Helga truly just enjoyed the sad poet's life, and nothing he did could change that.

The door stopped creaking. He heard a small clump as the bag dropped to the ground, and fury in Helga's voice as she whispered at him, "what did you say?"

He glanced over his shoulder, at her, just outside his door, staring aggressively through it at him. "Are you happy here?" He asked her plainly, knowing his eyebrows were knitting together in a hard line above his eyes.

"Wha-" she had that same incredulous look that was seriously pissing him off on her face again, so he cut her off.

"Are you- were you," he redirected as he turned around so his body faced hers again, "happy here?"

"Arnold," she stepped through his threshold again. Arnold would have been happier if she were angrier, more emotional, more anything, than the blank, cruel expression sitting on her face, "for the last time, this has nothing to do with you."

"Then why," he felt his voice raise angrily, against his will, "are you leaving?" She continued to stare at him with an even expression and he barely knew what to make of it, "explain it to me, because clearly I don't understand-" he was gesturing wildly and he didn't even know how she managed to get him so worked up. But the only way to deal with Helga was to demand answers.

He watched her eyes flash up to something on his wall, and he looked at it with his whole head, hoping that she had written something there, that there was something to fathom out of the paneled wood. An explanation from the peeling paint, _something_. But the only thing there was the portrait Grandma had hung up over the Christmas that his parents came to visit, that year in 7th grade.

When he looked back at Helga, she was outside of his house.

"Goodbye, Arnold," She closed the door quickly.

* * *

 _a/n ...anyway. i don't have words to talk about here im just gonna like. collect my things and go fjadk;_

 _thank you to everyone who reads & an extra thank you to those of you who leaves reviews you're lovely and really encouraging and it helps me write it really really does. _

_love to you all,_

 _xx. k._


	19. Chapter 19

_a/n i cannot believe you literally can't do strike throughs (so there's a line through the text) on this website. if my fics ever mysteriously disappear just know its because i repeatedly talk smack on this website in and of itself. WHAT EVEN WHYYYYY_

 ** _what should be a strike through is bolded_** _\- i did my best. - update, now it's in brackets, which i DID NOT WANT TO DO, but the bold won't work._

 _again i cannot reiterate often enough how much i hate this website._

 _i love u all though._

 _love, k. xx_

* * *

It was the nineteenth of November, there was yellow embedded in the space between her nail and her fingertips, and three days of sweat built up in her hair line. She could hear the pitter patter of rain on her ceiling, enjoying the white noise it created, a beat for her to paint along to. Not that she needed it now- because she was pretty sure she was done.

She rolled back from the wall, into the curtains she had taken down and balled up on the floor, at her work, the stretches of brown and yellow and orange, carefully painted over top of the words she had written, but just lightly enough that you could make them out, if you squinted. She rubbed at her chin, the little bit of dried paint there, and glanced around at the floor of her room, laughing a bit. There was newspaper everywhere- and an amassed pile of other paperwork in the corner, little paintings dabbled throughout it, all dug up- from the box, from under the sweatpants in her closet. She may of accomplished a hell of a lot, but she had a lot farther to go.

Something knocked at her window and she jumped at the loud sound. Her mind told her it was probably a runaway stick from a branch blown loose in the storm, but she turned around to check anyway…then promptly screamed because there were eyes staring back at her through her window.

Her heart rate was up 1000% and she was so glad her Dad wasn't home as she registered who it was, pushing a hand over her heart and being slightly angry they decided to scare her so bad. She stomped over to the window to unlock the tight hitch in it to push it up.

Gerald Johanssen, water dripping down his face and clothes sticking to his back, was staring at her, wind pushing his hair around.

She opened her mouth to talk, but he spoke first.

"Pataki," He sighed, leaning his hands on her windowsill, "what in the hell are you doin'?"

* * *

When she had stormed into her house on the first day of November, she didn't bother to say hello to her Dad, and ran straight for the box. She had to know, all of a sudden, it's real contents. She hadn't looked through any of it. The letters she had written Arnold, she realized as she opened the over stuffed box, were in chronological order, as she had just thrown them into the pile with little care for organization. She hadn't touched them since.

The one on top was the last one written, Helga remembered it well, in October of her Senior year.

However, the memories that flooded back to her, they came in quite the opposite order.

* * *

 _Hey Arnold,  
_ _hey, man.  
_ _how are you?  
_ _long time no talk. i already feel stupid doing this but i guess this is mine and it doesn't matter anyway.  
_ _i don't know, i just felt like i had something to fill you in on.  
_ _yesterday i found out that gerald & a bunch of his friends smoked a ton of pot before the game against rye chester. because they're fucking idiots. & they got ratted out by some freshman who was pissed about the rules on varsity and the team was about to get suspended.  
_ _& i, for some reason, god knows why, marched my ass to the office and told them it wasn't true. even though it probably was. i made up some bs story about vaping which is this new thing people are doing and sid bought one and i made fun of him for like an hour, but i brought it with me. no drugs, just vapor to relieve stress.  
_ _i don't know, i thought you'd like to know.  
_ _-helga_

A little ways down the page was written.

 _i'm a fucking idiot._

* * *

Helga tugged at the hair in between her eyes with the little pink tweezers she had taken out of Olga's room, ignoring the stinging in her hair line, but also in her eyes as tears welled up in them. She was sitting on her bathroom sink, leaned in really close, as close as her 13 year old body would let her be, to see as clearly as possible. She heard if she pulled one wrong hair, it'd be over.

Bob opened the door quickly, without even bothering to knock.

"Dad!" Helga shrieked, jumping down from the counter.

"Olga? What in the hell are you doin'?!" He asked his daughter, albeit the wrong one, who had flopped on to the floor in her hurry to get off the counter.

"Nothing dad," she answered harshly, feeling her face heating up, keeping one hand aggressively between her eyebrows so he couldn't see.

"Then what are you doin' hanging out in the bathroom, then?"

"I was just," she pushed passed him, "leaving." She slammed herself in her room, locking the door tight. She winced at the reflection in her own mirror, as about half of the space she wanted to pluck out was gone, but the rest of it remained full & thick.

"Helga, honey-" there was a knock on her door, "your Dad told me you were having some trouble-" her eyes were stinging again, she wiped away the tears furiously. "Would you open up, so I can help?"

She didn't want to go to school tomorrow looking like an _idiot_ , and she left the tweezers in the bathroom in her haste to exit, so she padded over to the door with shame, opening the door with her head down.

What wafted through her door was a familiar scent, but not one she was expecting. Fruit mixed with vodka, and she looked up at her mother, her half-lidded eyes and crooked smile. "Oh, Helga…well, don't worry because-"

And she shut her door as quickly as possible, right in front of her mother's face. She didn't need her drunk mother anywhere near her eyes with tweezers, thanks.

She walked a few steps backwards and fell back on her bed, and let the tears come as they wanted to for a long time, ignoring her mother's persistent knocks and "Helga, sweetie? What did I do?" calls.

* * *

 _Hey Arnold,_  
 _i'm making friends..._  
 _i thought you'd like to know._  
 _olga is still gone, you know. it's been years now. i can officially say it's been years._  
 _maybe ive finally met the sister i was supposed to have_  
 _but sometimes i think what we have isn't sisterly at all..._  
 _this letter is Stupid_

* * *

"Baby sister," Olga was standing outside of her door, "that dress is… _nice_ ," Helga could tell by her tone she wasn't being sincere.

Helga didn't much like the dress either, to be fair. She picked it out in November of the 6th grade to wear on Christmas, when money was flowing more easily and they did things like buy dresses once a year to wear on one night. It was dark green with a black top and a babydoll waist line and just kind of unflattering.

Now, almost a full two years later, it barely fit. It zipped over her chest with just a breath's width to spare, and her mom had given her a rather ugly black sparkling cardigan Olga was fond of in the 90's to cover her chest, really, for modesty's sake.

But, because Olga had basically insulted it, Helga felt defensive over it. She had picked it out- it was hers.

"Thanks," Helga smoothed out the hem, not looking at her sister, "I was gonna wear it to the wedding."

"Oh, we'll get you something bet- _different_ , than that, for the wedding." Olga walked into her room, uninvited, and hung up whatever garment bag she was carrying. "Color schemes, of course." She smiled down at Helga, stepping up behind her at the mirror and putting her hands on her shoulders.

Helga didn't realize until she started getting taller just how tall her sister was. She was maybe 5' 8", 5' 9", but carried her weight beautifully. She was proportioned like a princess, with a slim waist and good boobs and full hips.

Helga was just grazing 5' 5", already, as an 8th grader, and was overall…more flat than Olga. Her lines were much less soft and gentle, the line between her waist and her hips were much straighter. Olga smiled behind her, boasting white teeth and hair that always bounced. Helga's hair didn't seem to want to be anywhere but laying flat against her head.

"Now, for Christmas," she stepped away, unzipping the garment bag, "would you like to wear _this_?"

It was black, and more subtly sparkly, and much more Helga's speed but Helga was still oddly defensive against her sister and she crossed her arms and said "no, I wouldn't wear that to a funeral." She rolled her eyes.

"Oh?" Olga's eyes lost a bit of their twinkle. She looked down at it, "are you sure? I found it and I thought you would just lo-"

"Thanks, but," Helga walked past her sister, flopping down on her bed, "I'm good." She picked up the book that was on her bed, the one she wasn't particularly enjoying reading, but she pretended to read it with interest anyway.

"I'll leave it here, anyway, in case you change your mind."

"If that'll make you happy," Helga muttered, flipping a page with attitude. She listened to the door click shut behind her. She furiously stood up, picked up the dress, and shoved it into the back of her closet, trying to barely look at it.

She didn't wear it on Christmas, or for the wedding.

* * *

 _Hey Arnold,_  
 _I don't know what I'm supposed to be doing. I feel like I should be doing something._  
 _I guess maybe apologizing, to you, that is._  
 _I have them all, if that's…any consolation. It isn't, I know._  
 _And, it won't make you feel any better, and I know you said the last one was your last letter…but this won't be mine._  
 _I don't know why I thought that would help._  
 _She's been gone for two months. Like she fell off the planet. She won't call or text, and I feel like there's something to be doing about it but there isn't. And it feels like my fault. If I had tried a little harder maybe things would be different._  
 _Sometimes I think that a lot._  
 _I'm wearing her dress to the dance as if that would make anything different._  
 _But then again, I'm writing you a letter you won't get to read._  
 _So._

* * *

"Ugh," Helga leaned against the locker next to Phoebe's, flipping through the peer reviewed paper she just got handed back to her. She knew she shouldn't have traded with Phil Macintosh. He wouldn't know Shakespeare from Kipling. "I am so stressed about midterms next week."

Phoebe hummed in response, organizing her planner carefully.

"I mean, seriously? Two papers at _once_? I don't know where I'm gonna bust out a five paragraph essay on _Alexander Hamilton_." She sneered, rubbing at her finger nail where her black nail polish was chipping.

"Pataki, please," Gerald, on the other side of Phoebe, rolled his eyes and leaned his head against the locker, "we're all stressed about school. And some of us got sports to worry about," He scoffed, "You ain't special."

"Gerald, literally," She angrily put her hand on the locker, and ignored Phoebe's wince, " _when_ did I say I was special?"  
"I-"

"Time and date." She finished cooly.

"Ain't you ever heard of subtext?" Gerald pushed the topic further, unable to let the tension between them drop, "it's written all over ya damn mouth."

"Do you want me to tell you what's written all over yo-"

"PLEASE, stop, I am very tired and stressed and I'm just trying to secure my place as the first freshman in our school district with APs, which makes me busier than both of you, so please, _please_ , stop." Phoebe let it all out in an outburst, speech flowing out of her as if it were water and she were a tiny fire hydrant.

Helga settled for staring Gerald down, for Phoebe's sake, and hers only.

* * *

 _Hey Arnold,_  
 _there are times when i don't have any idea why i bother. when i know the literal only person on the planet who cares at all whether i live or die is you. and even with that i supposed I'm hellbent on ruining it._  
 _& i have to assume there's something wrong with you, arnold…i do. i have to assume there's something dark and wrong with everything I've ever loved and if i cant find it i have to destroy it myself._  
 _that's my own weird apology to you that this is letter number 398 sitting in a pile under my bed._  
 _its funny tho because i knew miriam & bob were not gonna show up, not with the wedding this close. not when there's flowers to order and then puke in and then reorder and argue about._  
 _i thought that would be enough rejection really i did that i would learn how to take it._  
 _you know its kind of like if you got really used to someone stabbing you, you get used to it. you learn to accept it…you become numb to it._  
 _but when i saw the chair i stole 9.75 out of miriam's wallet so phoebe could come to my play completely empty - it was like fucking water world appeared on my face and i had no choice but to run & goddamnit arnold._  
 _i am so tired of crying._

A piece of her letter was entirely illegible - watermarked a long time ago.

 _i hate gerald i hate middle school i hate what middle school has done to phoebe i hate my parents i hate this wedding [ **i hate you]**_

The last three words were scribbled out to the point where they were almost gone.

Almost.

* * *

"HELGA," Gerald very rarely used her real name. "For the LAST TIME, Phoebe did NOT come to my game instead of your stupid goddamn play." He had slammed his books down on the table in front of him, fed up being the only word to describe it. "I am TIRED of you running your mouth about me, when you KNOW I can hear you. Have some RESPECT." He sat down, in the way that men do, in which they seem like they've got the only say on the matter and their word is final.

"Gerald, I WANT you to hear me," Helga slammed her hands on his desk, putting her nose damn near his. "That's what REAL friends DO. THEY TALK TO EACH OTHER," she took a few steps backwards. Sid sat a few seats down. Sid was warily eyeing the situation, looking back and forth between Helga and Gerald with a nervous bite of his lip. He caught her eye, and nodded, as if he was telling her in their own brand of sign language to sound the alarm if she wanted back up. "Instead of talking BEHIND MY BACK, which you do EVERYDAY." She held her hands out grandly, staring at Gerald as if her glare could demand a response from him.

She had, in doing this, drawn a crowd of attention, which likely infuriated Gerald more than her words did - Gerald was that way.

And he only let it show for a moment, before retaining a cool composure.

"Listen, Pataki," he leaned forward, putting his elbows on his desk, speaking down to her, even though he was the one sitting "I know your boyfriend left, but that doesn't mean you can have my girlfriend."

Her mouth fell open, but her precious, coherent words, failed her. "Do you honestly think," she spluttered, "the complete nerve of th…" she stammered, before picking up her ripped, destroyed mess of a backpack off the floor, cradling it to her chest.

"You," she brought her face back very close to his, jamming a finger into his desk, "are the worst person I have _ever_ met."

She stormed out of the room, knowing very well Sid was a few feet behind her.

"Are you gonna get your own date for the dance on Friday?" She heard someone, not Gerald, call after her.

She walked faster.

* * *

 _Hey Arnold,_  
 _Lila hunted me down today and demanded we take a picture in front of the cast list of the musical. Which was…weird because she and I aren't any closer than when we were when you left. Which was like…on other universes._  
 _She told me she missed you._  
 _I miss you too, just so you know._  
 _I'll try and get some stamps so I can send these soon! I asked Olga for some for Christmas, but I also asked if we could make it an early gift. Cross your fingers!_  
 _Money is tight around here right now._  
 _Thank you for your letters - San Lorenzo sounds wonderful._  
 _You're moving soon, though? That's awesome. You're gonna see so much of the world!_  
 _thank you for not forgetting me while you're at it._  
 _I hope one day that will include a stop in Hillwood._  
 _Till then, I am, as I ever was, and ever shall be,_  
 _Yours,_  
 _Helga Pataki_

 _P.S. ^^that's how John Adams used to sign his letters to his wife. I still intend on being President, just so you know._

The top of the letter was littered with birds of different colors, sketched out with colored pencils.

* * *

"So," Sid sat in her bedroom, tapping his fingers awkwardly against her comforter. Months ago, Bob would have yelled at them to keep her door open. Now he wouldn't notice at all. "Do you wanna…play a video game?" Helga didn't like the sight of Olga's entirely empty for the first time ever room staring at her. She kept it shut whenever possible.

"Nah," Helga sighed, staring out her window, laying on her pillow. She wasn't looking at Sid, despite him sitting on the foot of her bed. She wanted him there, though, she hoped he knew that.

"Okay." He replied plainly. A few more moments passed by, recorded in time by the tapping of Sid's fingers. "Do you wanna… egg Saperstein?"

"Nope," she popped the p.

"Alright," again, the simple, content tone came from Sid. "Do you wanna sit here and do nothing at all?"

He was met with silence from Helga, she just shut her eyes and allowed her face to take in the summer sun shining from her window.

He slid down her bed to sit on the floor, "I'll take that as a yes. Do you want me to talk?"

A moment, and then, a simple "sure" from Helga.

"So, if Pokemon are being constantly discovered - what are Pokemon's knowledge of other Pokemon. If they learned an efficient communication technique, wouldn't they be able to speed up their own-"

* * *

 _Hey Arnold,_  
 _We went to the amusement park today! I even paid for a ticket._  
 _Yeah, I knew you'd be proud._  
 _Rhonda was so rude to Nadine, and I know you think I should bury the hatchet, but I just want to reiterate for a moment how glad I am we're not friends with her anymore._  
 _It was actually really fun, Harold only threw up once, but it was on someone's kid, and we had to make a break for it. Phoebe and Gerald weren't even very couple-y and Phoebe sat with me on most of the two seaters._  
 _Nothing is more lonely than third wheeling a two seater, especially when you miss your own boyfriend._  
 _I miss you, by the way!_  
 _Nadine told us over chat that Rhonda was really upset on the car ride home but didn't say why. But, honestly, Arnold, if you were with us today, you would agree with me that she deserved whatever she had coming for her. Talk about entitled!_  
 _I'm glad our friends will never be like that._  
 _Anyway, I miss you, and Mom said we might be able to go to the post office this week to send this! Do you know how much postage to South America is? Let me break it to you, bucko, it's a lot._  
 _Love,_  
 _Helga._

 _On the back was illustrated a simple watercolor sunset on the beach, except, with flying saucers in the sky._

* * *

"Helga!" She heard her name being yelled in the cafeteria, but she knew it was Sid, and she had no idea why he was yelling her name as they sat in the same spot every day, so she didn't look up. She was too busy narrowing down her packing list for the move in a few weeks.

"Helga," She looked up, and Sid's boisterous face was beaming down at her. He had gotten tanner from his time in the sun at football practice, which he joined for god knew what reasons, but he was still arguing with the coach about whether or not he had to cut off his bracelets before the game. "I have found us a friend and she's weird and has _great_ interest in the cucumbers we carved to be shaped like musical instruments."

And then she noticed the girl he was dragging by the wrist, much shorter than Helga but about Sid's height, with deeper skin and hair that fell past her shoulders with long bangs and a beanie shoving some of it back. She did a little wave with a good natured smile, "Cass here," she greeted, "apparent cucumber enthusiast."

And suddenly packing couldn't be _further_ from Helga's mind.

* * *

Helga, a little dizzy from reading so many letters, hands dry from the pages. She had reached the bottom of the box, crumpled up a little from the weight of the others.

 _Hey Arnold,_  
 _I hope you got to San Lorenzo safely, and tell your parents I said hello!_  
 _I miss you already!_  
 _Nothing's changed around here yet, but sometimes I think nothing is ever gonna change around here. Predictable ol' Hillwood, amiright?_  
 _Anyway… I'm excited for the cold to get the heck out of here, I mean, jeez- we don't live in the Artic!_  
 _Or, I don't, you live in the tropics now, hah._  
 _I hope everything is good, I look forward to your first letter._  
 _-Helga_

On the back was covered in one word, _HIM_ , written in various styles and fonts, covering the page in black ink.

At the very bottom was written,

 _this is a poem._

* * *

Helga smiled at what she thought would be an empty box, but there was something else in there. At the very bottom, under the letter and completely crushed from the weight, was his little, blue hat, he left her. She couldn't ever wear it, the boy himself couldn't even wear it properly, but she kept it, along with her own pink ribbon tied around the rim.

She ducked her head, ignoring the smile gracing her face, and realized that under that hat was a paper crumpled into an actual ball…

It was a first draft.

 _Hey Arnold,_  
 ** _[I hope you're really happy in San Lorenzo.]_**  
 ** _[Hey!]_**  
 ** _[I hope your parents are a - okay!]_**  
 _I'm really pissed at you for doing this to me. (nts: i cant send this anymore so why not)_  
 _no offense bucko, but today fucking sucked. probably worse than yesterday sucked, and yesterday sucked. gerald & phoebes are officially the worst couple on the entire planet because i have to be around them. they're probably worse than my parents. and it's my parents arnold._  
 _i also forgot that i used to walk home by myself every day. i mean. i did it before so its not like a big deal obviously but its lonely. if sid didn't live on the other side of the planet maybe i'd ask him to walk with me but that would suck for him so i won't._  
 _in the interest of my poetry class my teacher said to write lists when we don't know what we want to say because we always have something to say._  
 _FIVE THINGS THAT SUCK A LITTLE MORE WITHOUT YOU_  
 _-lunch. harold already makes me want to rip my hair out & now i just want to rip his face off._  
 _-algebra 2. now i actually have to take notes and math sucks._  
 _-being cold. i know this is mushy shut up._  
 _-popcorn w/ m n ms (still a genius idea though)_  
 _-being at home. because…yeah._  
 _i'm tired, arnold. i might be more tired than i used to b.e._

 _i don't even know why i keep writing your name because i'm never sending this. i don't even know why i bother writing your name at all because you're never coming back at all so there's not really a point to anything in these letters at all._

 _i hope you're happy, arnold._

 _i really do_

* * *

 _a/n not much action here... and yet one of my fav chapters & also yet... i expect literally no reviews on it._

 _have a lovely weekend babes._

 _xx, k._


	20. Chapter 20

"So," Helga asked after Gerald got _mud_ in her room, and was sitting on her bed. It really was quite the storm outside, his jacket was sitting in a sopping mess in the corner, resembling a sad, lumpy, otter. "Who sent you?" She asked, sitting on her own window sill. "Arnold?" She pressed, tucking a foot under her, " _Sid_?"

"Me," He rubbed a large hand over his wet face, only really making it a slightly different version of wet, but not any drier, "I sent me."

* * *

"How long has it been?" Cass asked him, voice clearly tired and a little irritated.

"At least three days, closer to four," Sid answered. He himself was just fine, having just woke up from a nap. He was sitting on his dorm bed, nursing a bottle of water. It was the evening of the 4th of November. "Gerald said she didn't offer Arnold any sort of explanation, just walked out on him. That was Sunday."

"Well damn if it doesn't sound familiar," Cassidy sighed. Sid couldn't help but wonder if Arizona felt different than Hillwood on Wednesdays. He had never been out of the state, let alone on a plane. He couldn't help but wonder if Cass was experiencing an entirely different Wednesday afternoon than him just by location alone. "We haven't talked since Halloween, but she texted me on the first that she was doing good. She hasn't replied to anything else since, obviously." Perhaps there were coyotes near her…or cacti. Really, Sid had no fucking clue what Arizona was like at anytime, let alone on Wednesdays.

Sid sat up, stared out of his window on to campus. He barely knew what the wildlife on his own campus looked like. "I'll go over sometime in the next two days. I'm gonna be pissed if she's not there, though. I would have gone earlier but honestly, it's cold out and I don't have my bike anymore." There was a couple kissing on a bench outside his dorm- not particularly the _wild_ life he was looking for. Sid looked away quickly.

"Sid, you don't have to explain yourself to me," Cass reminded him gently.

"Yeah, I know."

They sat in silence for a few moments.

"How's Arnold?"

"What?"

"I mean," Cass backpedaled, "I hear so much about him I feel like I know the guy. I just can't help but wonder how he's taking all of this."

"Oh," Sid paused, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. "I, I don't know. I haven't talked to him."

"Oh." Cass replied plainly.

He could practically hear the ticking of the clock his annoying room-mate had set to go off at 7:30 am every day.

"Ugh," Sid groaned, throwing himself back on his bed, "fine, I'll go see, but fuck, Cass, now this is like a four mile walk."

"You're a good man, Sid." Cassidy replied warmly, and a little nasally.

Sid's heart lifted a little bit at that, "thank you, Cass."

"You're welcome."

* * *

Sid 5:12

hey

Lila 5:13

Heard anything?

Sid 5:15

nada

but ill go over there tomorrow in between classes

Lila 5:19

I'd go with you, but bio homework.

Sid 5:20

Gross

* * *

"Really," Helga replied blankly, staring Gerald down. Helga Pataki was good at detecting bullshit. And, hey, maybe if the month had gone differently, he wouldn't be sitting in her room. But the fact of the matter remained that he decided, of his own free will and jurisdiction, to come see his _friend_. He could tell by a look at her, tired eyes and greasy hair, that she needed one.

Gerald put his elbows on his knees, staring right back at her. "We destroyed our friend group once," He told her, "I wasn't gonna let it happen again." He knew she wouldn't have a response to that, so he took the opportunity to stare around the bedroom. It look like it was hit by a hurricane. "What _is_ all this stuff?"

"The hallowed halls of my mind on pap-"

"Be serious, Pataki." He interrupted her, grabbing a paper by his foot. "What is this?"

"That is a poem I wrote for Arnold in spring of 8th grade. Don't read it, it's sad bullshit." She replied honestly, crossing her arms and leaning back against the window. The rain pounded against it on the other side. "On your other side is some new poetry, mostly about my dad, in that corner is every letter I've ever written Arnold, over there are some old paintings." She gave him a map in her words of the small room. It was small, and very cramped. He knew the Pataki's didn't exactly flourish financially, but this was perhaps worse than he was expecting.

"And what's that, then?" He pointed at the wall next to her.

Arching around the window was a massive autumnal tree. Its leaves were in splashes of red and golds, it's branches were not straight lines, but instead words. They were done in different styles of scripts, and very difficult to read, but undoubtedly words stretched out to fill the spaces.

Helga's eyes, for perhaps the first time in a very long time, lit up. "That's…" She tilted her head at it, "that's my new project. Well it was…I think I've finished, actually."

Gerald delicately set down the poem in his hand, and crossed the room to look at it. One section of branch was just the word "him." repeated over and over. On the leaves, the delicate thin parts, the stem, was written, very tiny, "my beloved and my despair."

Gerald thought, for a moment, that he was looking at a massive tree as a form of a love poem to Arnold. The leaves in that section were a muddled golden-orangey tone. He wished Arnold knew it existed.

"Arnold's worried about you," he mused quietly, just loud enough so he knew Helga could hear him. "But it's been a tough month for him, too."

* * *

"Arnold," his mom was saying to him kindly. Arnold continued to push the food around his, admittedly very beautiful, plate. His parents seemed to have no sense for design, which likely set them off all the better. Simple was the new beautiful. Their apartment was brand new and plain, but beautifully decorated in the heart of the city. It was well deserved, after years of sleeping on dirt floors. "Your father and I, well," she glanced at Dad. "We don't want to put a ton of pressure on your shoulders. We said we support the idea of a gap year, and we do. You've been putting in more work than most kids on the sites for years."

Dad was giving him an assured look, "ah, look," he wiped his mouth, shifting forward and setting his elbows on the table, "you're a smart boy, Arnold. Whatever you decide to do in life," he glanced back to Mom, "we know you'll succeed."

"We're just wondering if you've had any more thoughts on what you'd like to get started on?" Mom took a sip of wine. "We do have the spare room, and you know you're welcome to move out here and go to school in the city. There's tons of options."

"Or, if you just want to keep getting your hands dirty, Randy has a new work site opening in North-east Africa," his Dad smiled at him, "he'd gladly take you on as an intern."

"So, I take it," Arnold put his chin in his palm, fussing with the tomato has on his plate, "you'd rather I not mess around in the boarding house much longer." Tomatoes weren't even good vegetables, in Arnold's opinion. In fact- were they even considered vegetables anymore? He couldn't keep up with the tomato identity crisis.

When he looked up at his parents, they were glancing between each other once again, "Arnold, we understand why you wanted to go back. It was your home," his mom said warmly, reaching for his hand. "And if staying there is what you really want to do, we'll support you in that."

"But running it as a boarding house?" Dad winced, reaching for his napkin again. "Not feasible, really, they're out of style. Now of course, nobody's paid a mortgage on that building in decades, insurance on it isn't too bad, and we're not staffing it right now, except you, so it's not too bad of a venture. If you want to stay, however, we'll probably have the interior remodeled," he licked his lips, reached for his glass, "make them apartments; not just rooms."

"And if you really want to stay and oversee the whole thing, you can do that, but..."

Arnold looked up at his nervous parents, and sighed.

They were such good people, from the graying hair on their heads to their carefully polite table manners.

"You think I can be more than a landlord," he finished for them with a dry grin.

"Oh, thank god you said it for us," Dad breathed, taking a big gulp of wine.

"Of course, we have no idea how to run an apartment building as a business venture." Mom said, scooping up more turkey.

"Oh, yeah, no idea." Dad added with a mouthful of potatoes.

"So, if you don't stay..."

"You're gonna sell it," Arnold finished again, pressing his lips together. "Yeah," he sighed, "I was afraid of that." He wasn't particularly hungry anymore, either. Especially not for tomatoes.

* * *

Gerald looked at another section of branches while Helga stayed silent. He knew she wouldn't really want to respond to that. This section was still a little bit green, mixed with yellows. A small twig with no leaves on it at all said, "some siblings are by blood. others are by choice. i am thankful every day you chose me."

Now, unless Pataki had strange opinions about sibling relationships, Gerald questioned whether or not the entire thing was entirely for Arnold. A single green leaf had on the stem, "messy hair, messier life."

These branches reached back to a place where they met with another set, similar in color of leaves, but extending in a different direction. "you'll probably find yourself some kind of delirious joy one day that doesn't include me. i know, and i'm already working on forgiving you."

Gerald felt intrusive, suddenly, but his eyes were glued to the tree. He looked away quickly, to the trunk.

The trunk was the most jumbled, the least concise. The roots were just serious of articulated dots, in different thicknesses. Gerald knelt down. A rather long poem was nestled at the bottom of the tree, at the base of it's trunk. it was scattered, its lines and stanzas pulling apart from each other, in a disorganized nest.

"i never hated you. my tears never feel like mine. i never call upon them, and yet they appear, washing the makeup off my cheek as if i asked them to. as if they belong there. as if they have a reason for it. they are from me - they are not of me. i told you i hated you once and you blinked. you blinked again. i remember not what you said next. i remember you blinking. .. my tongue was a sword that never marred your skin. apathy became the armor i wore in pride - i didn't know - detachment was the shadow - that grew behind me. i now know two things to be infallibly true. if you wear a costume long enough, it will swallow you alive. & eleven year olds should not need armor. indifference is embedded into my skin. .. i loved you. that should hurt more. . it . doesn't."

He felt intrusive, yet again. He jumped up to the top, some yellow leaves just beginning to fade into copper beginning to appear in the dabble of leaves. "you have stars in your eyes but sometimes you make me think you hung them yourself," another branch read, "fear the girl who controls the weather in the room."

Another branch, fanning off, finally, into the reddish-brown leaves of the tree, read, "i once maybe thought you ruined my life. maybe you did. maybe i'm glad. maybe this sounds crazy, but i'm thankful it happened. i'm thankful it was, for it gave way to what is."

He knew, from the time he started reading it, from the red dabbled around it to the slightly messy handwriting, that it was for him.

He turned around to look at Helga. He would have thought, after all this time, after all they'd change, that she'd look different to him. That, like a butterfly after metamorphosis, he'd barely recognize the girl watching him from her bed, from his vicious enemy in Middle School.

But he had never known the girl who punched him in the face at the 8th grade dance more clearly.

* * *

"Hey Helga," a girl had paused by them as they stood on the side of the cafeteria. Helga and Phoebe obviously knew her. Gerald didn't. Her hair looked absolutely fried from being dyed to many times. Gerald rolled his eyes and looked back down to his shoes. "I like your dress."

"Oh, uh- yeah." Helga stammered. Gerald laughed under his breath. Girl could not accept a compliment for her life. He shoved his hands in his pockets.

"That's Olga's dress, isn't it?" Phoebe said after a moment, the girl must've walked away. "She'd like that."

"Like she'd care," Helga bit back bitterly. "She obviously cares so much about my goddamn dress that she ran off and hid somewhere."

Gerald snorted, "who can blame her?" He muttered at his feet.

The next thing he there was a sharp crack, a sharp pain, and his nose was bleeding.

* * *

Gerald had said some downright malicious things to Helga G. Pataki in his lifetime. That wasn't one of them. The final straw between them had been, well and truly, a simple joke. The flap of a butterfly's wing can cause a hurricane. People that don't understand each other have an easier time accepting war than accepting that.

Gerald wasn't sure if he didn't know what to say, or if there wasn't anything to say at all. He could tell her that he was happy, that they were where they were. Him wet from rain, her from grease, staring at each other in her most definitely too small bedroom

But her, and her all-knowing eyes covered by a slate of nonchalance and her words painted straight from her veins, she knew that. She knew everything he could possibly say already.

"You should call Sid," he turned around, running his fingers over the pieces that were obviously Sid's. He wasn't going to read them. He didn't even want to read his own section. "He and Lila are worried about you."

"I know," Helga's voice replied softly. Her tone also told him that she knew the truth, that despite Sid never asking him to come there, he would never be standing in front of that tree without his influence.

* * *

Lila 10:12

Are you in 102 English?

Sid 10:12

Yea

Lila 10:14

Who's in your group for the midterm?

My group are being the Biggest of butt heads.

Sid 10:15

Oh

god if i kno

Lila 10:17

Sid how do you not know?

Sid all but flew into the classroom seconds before the professor shut the door, looking disheveled and somehow sweaty despite the cold weather in his navy blue sweater. He smiled weakly at her, before sending Gerald a facial expression that read both relieved and annoyed at the same time. He sheepishly made his way with his enormous backpack to where Gerald had saved him a seat in the packed lecture hall.

"Where were you?" Gerald muttered, pretending to pay attention by keeping his eyes forward.

Sid 12:12

helga is being the worst

Gerald blinked in surprise at the text. He furrowed his brows, and glanced over to the grumpy Sid. He was sitting hunched over, chin in his palm, taking notes. If Gerald knew anything about Sid, he could probably assume they weren't about the lecture. Maybe giraffes, or Space Jam or something else stupid.

Sid finally glanced over, taking notice of Gerald's curious expression. He reached for his phone again with an exasperated sigh.

Sid 12:15

i'm worried about her.

Gerald 12:15

Have you seen her?

Sid 12:15

i tried man

she's

difficult

Gerald couldn't help but agree with that, and laughed softly to himself. He, of course, wasn't allowed to actually tell Sid that. He & Pataki were friends now, but anyone with functioning brain cells could tell you it was thin ice they walked on.

Sid 12:17

have u heard from arnold?

im worried about him too

Gerald hadn't, actually. He hadn't particularly thought of it, either.

A small wave of guilt was tickling at his toes. With another glance at Sid's profile, he made the sound decision in his mind to get better at being a friend.

Sid 12:18

wanna go with me to see him?

Gerald 12:19

You were gonna go see him?

Did you get your bike back?

Sid 2:21

nah

Gerald 12:23

Isn't that like

A 40 minute walk altogether for you?

Sid 12:25

idk

seemed worth it.

The wave of guilt crashed over Gerald. He hoped Sid didn't start to think he was weird from all the staring, but he looked at him again. He had this sturdy concentration on the board that didn't seem to translate at all to the notes he was scribbling on his paper, which seemed to be about dinosaurs. His other hand was blithely hovering over his phone, waiting for Gerald's response. His hair was flopping into his face, his tongue barely peeking out of the corner of his mouth in faux concentration.

Another weird thing about Sid- if he noticed Gerald was staring, he didn't call him out on it.

Gerald 12:30

Yea

He texted back finally.

Gerald 12:31

Yea man

Sure.

* * *

Sid 4:12

:(

Lila 4:12

What's up?

Sid 4:14

when i got there she wouldn't even let me in

...

you know, ladybug, she can be rlly inconsiderate sometimes

Lila 4:17

...

Heh.

Sid 4:18

what?

Lila 4:19

You called me lady bug

Sid 4:20

hah, well...

i thought it was suiting.

Lila 4:22

Do you have plans tonight?

* * *

Arnold was watching the clouds go by on his bed. He knew, of course, that his parents were right. That staying in Hillwood wasn't necessarily productive towards anything. That he didn't, really, even have a good reason for staying.

He still felt like his heart was nestled into the sidewalk of the city.

He was, perhaps, mid-mope fest, when he received a text. From Sid, of all people, demanding his presence…in front of his building.

"Well, there's sleeping beauty!" An annoyed Sid shoved a bag into his arms, before stomping his way into his house. "I was about to call up and ask you for your hair. Is that the right fairytale? Who cares. Hot damn, it's cold out there." Sid glanced up at Arnold's, he was sure, bewildered face. Sid smiled at him, all pink on many pieces of his face, particularly the nose, and pat Arnold's cheek. "Hi there, cupcake." Gerald shut the door behind himself, already ditching his shoes and his coat. "We have come to be your in-flight entertainment! That sounded funnier in my mind! Fuck!"

"This door is drafty as all hell, Arnold," Gerald grabbed them both by the shoulders, all but shoving them forwards and up the stairs. "Let's get a move on, gentleman."

Arnold still, perhaps, didn't quite understand why they were there…but he was suddenly, as they stumbled up the stairs, grateful for it.

* * *

Sid was impressed with Arnold, because he made it through an entire box of donuts and two conversations about wiener dogs, yes, separate conversations, before bringing up the inevitable.

"So…have you guys talked to Hel-"

Sid, the fearless man that he was, all but tackled Arnold, smacking a hand over his mouth.

"We speak not of the H-word. This is a night of men. We eat steak…and fight bears! Or something, I don't know."

"We're not fighting no bears, Sid," Gerald replied.

"Foxes?"

"No."

"…Raccoons?"

"…I do hate raccoons…" Gerald said thoughtfully. Sid thought they could make a Gang of it, Master Raccoon Fighters, it needed work, but it was a start. He returned to what he was originally telling Arnold before he started thinking about anti-raccoon gang names.

"Anyway, so, no H-word," Sid told Arnold with insistence, "Or the M-word," he glanced at Gerald quickly, "or, come to think of it, the L-word," he dropped his hold on Arnold. Sid was decently pleased to see that behind his hand, Arnold was grinning. "Although," Sid pulled his phone out of his pocket, "she is probably gonna be pretty pissed at me for ditching her tonight, but what can you do-"

"Wait a minute," Gerald snatched, for lack of a better word, Sid's phone from his hands. He glared bewilderedly between it and then back to Sid. "You could have gone out with Lila," he squinted at him, "and you came… _here_? Instead?!"

"I mean," Sid reached for his phone, but Gerald backed up, keeping it just out of grasp. "I wanted to make sure my friend was okay." He shrugged, "I know Lila is fine."

Sid wasn't sure, for a moment, whether Gerald was going to hit him or kiss him.

He wasn't sure which terrified him more.

Arnold, Sid realized, was having a completely different conversation in his mind after Sid released him. He was staring up, out of his window ceiling thing that still made Sid jealous as fuck every day. He was sitting on the floor, with his arm crossed, looking pensive as he looked up.

"My parents might sell the boarding house," he said plaintively, after a few moments.

Well…that sucked.

…they could hardly have a raccoon rival gang with two people.

* * *

Sid looked, perhaps, more devastated by that news than Arnold did. Gerald watched him flop back on Arnold's bed with a sigh. Gerald wasn't thrilled either, hanging out at the, granted- mostly empty, boarding house was becoming one of his favorite things.

"I mean," Arnold looked pensive. He sat forward, putting his fist under his chin. "I don't really know what exactly is keeping me here…" he looked so lost in his thought that he didn't exactly choose the words he was saying, they were just coming out in a haphazard stream, "well, I do…but I can't. I mean, you know…"

Gerald _did_ know. He had a feeling that Sid, despite not being able to see him at all from that angle, knew too.

"How is she, really, Sid?"

A deep sigh from Sid. "I really don't know, Arnold. She wouldn't let me in. Like, literally. Was not allowed in her house."

Sid may know Helga, but Gerald knew Arnold, and that was the wrong thing to say. Arnold's face crumpled up, the sign that Arnold was Feeling many things…which always led to Conversations.

Gerald wondered if Arnold had any idea that regular teenagers…young men, whatever, did not have Conversations about their feelings. He could only surmise he probably didn't. Gerald thought, for a moment, that he was actually kind of thankful for that. It was just part of what made Arnold, Arnold.

"That," Arnold looked like he was choosing his words carefully. Or like, he didn't know which of his emotions to express first. Confusion, hurt, anger, it was like they was all rolled in by a whole lotta love into one big ol' Arnold canoli. "That sucks, Sid. I, obviously," he tossed his phone on his bed with a sigh, "haven't really heard from her, either."

Arnold looked sad. Just a straight-up, sort of mopey-puppy dog, sad. Gerald didn't really expect to be so affected by it, to care that much. But instead of looking at it, he glanced down at his phone, and made sure he still had Helga's address from that one time he was gonna drive her home and they fell asleep at Arnold's.

* * *

"Here," Helga stood finally, grabbing him a towel from her crammed closet doors. "I'm cold just looking at you."

"Thanks." Gerald took it with a genuine appreciation, also allowing him to step away from the tree at last. They almost made a circle, switching spots. Gerald sat in her spot on the bed. Helga stood across the room. She crossed her arm and leaned against the window.

"How's your dad?" He asked quietly.

The question rolled around in her mind.

Her dad was…okay. He was tired and he was sad. She stared at her toes, and realized lying to Gerald probably wouldn't do her good in either way, so that's what she said.

"He's tired, and he's sad." She replied with thought, letting Gerald glance up, concern ruffling his brow again, "he misses his wife, and he misses his daughter." She shrugged. "But he's okay, I think. He wants me to start seeing his therapist. He and Mom started seeing him when she came back from rehab the first time, I just found out," she omitted gently.

"It's strange, you know," she added after a beat of silence. "Like, when you're young you only really see your parents as what they do and don't do for you. Bob is…a man. He's just a person." She sunk down the wall, to sit on the floor, musing attitude taking over his features. "I think right now I'm just working on a whole lot of forgivenesss." She looked to him, he wasn't watching her anymore. "How is your dad?"

"He's happier, now, I think. Jamie moved out a couple of weeks ago. I'm playing football. I'm not good enough but…" he shook his head. "He's worried about Tim, she's gonna start driving soon." She waited for him to keep going, just because of an inclination that he might.

"I'm tryna' get him to be easier on her than he was me. He's really protective right now. She's gotta make her own mistakes, you know?" Gerald smirked, "he tried to keep me from making any, but we all know how that went."

They sat in silence for a moment. When Helga looked back to Gerald, he was already looking at her.

"Pataki," Gerald looked ridiculous under her pink striped towel, sitting cross legged on her bed. He looked the youngest Helga had seen him look, practically since grade school. He was all wide eyes and normally immaculate hair beginning to curl and fall into his eyes. "Can I ask you something and have you not yell at me?"

"I make no guarantees."

"Can you try?"

She raised her eyebrows at him from the floor. He grinned, shaking his head, at the salt contained in the simple expression, she could tell. She was allowed to be salty, he just showed up and got mud on her floor. There was already mud there, but whatever, she could be annoyed if she wanted to be.

"When's the last time you showered, Tac?" The nickname flew out of his mouth without thought, she could tell by his own questioning look on his face.

She examined him, really _looked_ at him. A few years ago, that question would have called for a punch in the mouth. But he wasn't asking her to be rude. It sent shivers up her spine, but the fact of the matter was that the tone under his voice wasn't that of vitriol, but the exact opposite. It was a small amount of loving concern for her, seeping in from under his words.

She put her hand in her hair. Her expression broke, her face split into a smile, and she dropped her hand from her slimey hair quickly. "Oh my god," She chuckled to herself, "I have _no_ idea."

"Well," Gerald stood up with a grin, ruffling the towel over his hair. "You shower, make sure you eat something," he pointed at her specifically, with a very Dad look. She grinned, shaking her head, laugh still bubbling in her chest. "And you respond," he walked around her room. He found her phone under all of the letters she wrote Arnold, forgotten weeks ago, "to the goddamn," he walked across the room, and plugged it into the charger by her makeshift bedside table, "group chat."  
He tossed her phone on her bed, and gave her a flat look, "or I swear to God, Pataki, I'm coming back." He picked up his jacket. To his surprise, and joy, actually, when he looked back at her she was still smiling.

"Did you want to take the door, or…"

"Oh hell no," He opened her window. The rain had slowed to a drizzle. "This made me feel like a straight up badass." He heard her laugh behind her. It did, actually. She could see why Sid always took the window. "Oh, and Helga," He turned around to look at her. "COU, in the city?" He leaned against the window. "They have a political science program…I'd have to live at home and commute, because I couldn't do both tuition and room and board."

She had this odd look on her face. One that he, perhaps, hadn't seen her make before. Or, in a very long time. It was this wide-eyed, hopeful sort of glimmer. As if she had recently rediscovered exactly what the world was, and that it was…wonderful, in some way. He thought maybe, she hadn't spent the last three weeks painting a tree on a wall. She really spent it rediscovering exactly what it was she loved about people…about life, in general.

"I'm thinking about doing that," He pressed his mouth together, a rueful little smile.

She opened her mouth, and shut it again.

He supposed she thought anything she could say, he already knew.

* * *

 _a/n i have very few words to you tonight, idk, i dont think there's much i can say. 10 points if u can match a snippet to a poem to the character helga wrote it to. thank u very much for reading, and if you leave reviews- u make world shine brighter and we are the best of pals._

 _lots of love,_

 _xx k._


	21. Chapter 21

helga 9:14

happy thanksgiving

everybody

lila 9:14

!

Sid 9:15

SHE LIVES!

Mari 9:17

Hey, thanks baby!

I'm glad to hear from you!

Gerald was sitting on the floral couch, a small refuge from the absolute caucous of noise in the other room. The room was cramped, a lamp by the couch leaning over his hair, the coffee table with the cracked legs all but pushed into his legs. There were bags and kids toys spread out in the room, as if there was a hurricane recently, that got toddlers involved.

Sid 9:19

ALL HAIL TURKEYSUS

GOD OF THANKSGIVING

"You're grinning like a damn fool," he heard Mari in the entry way. She looked beautiful, crisp orange sweater dress and her curls falling into her face. She smiled at him as she crossed the room, then sank down, half into the couch, half on top of him.

"I'm," he picked his words carefully, "glad she's doing better."

Mari ran her hand lovingly over the side of his head and kissed his cheek. He tried to keep his smile from growing wider, but he thought he might be failing. "I'm glad you went over there."

A crash, and then some yelling in spanish from the kitchen.

"You sure you shouldn't be in there?" He asked carefully.

"What, you're the only one who's allowed to hide on the couch?"

Most everyone else was outside at Mari's house, the kids running around on the sparse backyard and the adults sharing a beer on the porch. It was unseasonably warm, and her family was making the most of it. It was their first holiday where they made it a point to visit each other's houses, which Gerald could only assume was some kind of step for them.

He looked at her, the soft glow of the lamp reflecting off her cheek and her smudged eyeliner. He thought about bringing it up, that he might switch colleges.

But she linked her hand with his and dropped her head on his shoulder with a contented sigh, and she smelled like spice and cinnamon and all together too good for him.

He kissed her forehead, and said nothing.

* * *

Arnold had no idea what had gotten into him, but when he got the text he was on his feet and walking towards the house he had only driven to once. He had to drive to his parent's soon, but it barely mattered to him. He didn't wear warm enough clothes, despite the warm weather and had his hands shoved into his pockets, balled into fists. He walked quickly, not pacing himself at all.

When he got to Helga's block, he didn't have the nerve to look up at the house until he was within feet of it. He didn't look up until he heard the sound of a screen door slamming shut.

On the porch there was a girl, who was definitely not Helga. She had her back to him, facing the door. As if she had just gotten shoved out of it.

He suddenly felt so stupid and so ridiculous and still hurt and he just turned on his heel so he could get the heck out of there.

"Hey, Arnold," the girl on the porch called out to him. Her voice rang in his frigid ears.

Arnold turned around, hands shoved into his pockets. He was trying his best to not have a defeated or derisive attitude. True neutral. Or he tried, anyway. He cocked his head to the side. "How'd you know my name?" She was leaning against the banister with her arms crossed. He knew, for a fact, by the easy smile on her face and the nonchalance, she could only be Cass.

She rolled her eyes, but with good nature. "Who else would you be?"

Arnold…didn't know, frankly. He looked at her. It appeared that, like Helga, she didn't put too much stake in appearances. Her hair was loosely wavy and fell just below her shoulders, most of the top was shoved back by a beanie. She was wearing a t-shirt for a band Arnold didn't know under a military-themed jacket. Arnold wasn't good with telling, but he was pretty sure she didn't have any make up on her warm, but pale, skin, and there especially didn't seem to be any on her brown, maybe hazel, eyes.

She reminded him of Helga, which honestly didn't surprise him, but in a different way than he was expecting. They were maybe both peas- but certainly not from the same pod. For example, Helga certainly would have called him out for staring that long without saying anything. When his eyes met Cassidy's again, she just smiled at him. He got the feeling she was looking him over, too.

"Wanna take a walk?" She asked kindly. Her voice was different than he thought it would be, lighter but crisper, all at the same time.

"Wanna...what?" He could have smacked himself for stammering, but it wasn't at all what he was expecting.

"Walk," she said slowly, another tease. He was surprised how quickly this girl came to be teasing, but she teased in a very different way than Helga did. Helga's always had the razor blade of truth lying under her words, so they stung even if it wasn't intentional. Cassidy, somehow, already made him feel like he was in on the joke. "It's a thing that humans do," she trotted quickly down the steps, on to the little path to stand beside him. "Where you put one foot," she demonstrated, "in front of the other. And then you just keep going."

And she did. She just started to walk away from him, trusting that he would follow. It made him smile, because it reminded him of someone. He glanced back up at the house, at the shut curtains and the locked front door. He let himself be sad, for just a moment, before turning around to follow Cassidy.

* * *

Sid was walking with a hop in his step. It was Thanksgiving, the last of the beautiful leaves were beginning to fall. Lila had texted him that her Grandparents were in town and driving her crazy, so he was on his way to meet her at the ShopRite, if only so she could escape for an hour.

She looked beautiful, as she never didn't. She had half her hair pulled back in a clip. She looked cold, even though Sid himself thought it was maybe unreasonably warm out, but she had her hands clasped in front of her. The tip of her nose was turning pink.

He thought as he walked up to her, hands shoved in his pockets, that if she were Helga he'd grab her by the shoulder and plant an obnoxious kiss on her cheek. Which Helga would ostentaciously wipe off and wiggle away from him. He wondered how Lila would react.

And he didn't have time to talk himself out of it, so he did it without thinking at all.

As he approached her, he grabbed her shoulder so they were walking side by side and he leaned down and kissed her cheek. She was shorter than Helga, so it was more of her temple, but all the same idea.

"Good morning," he said, rubbing his hand on her shivering shoulder. He wondered when his heart had picked up to such a traitorously quick pace.

When he had the nerve to look back down at her, her entire face was red. There were large, green eyes blinking at him.

"Hey," she exhaled as she spoke. She looked like she didn't know how he expected her to respond. She settled for grabbing his hand, the one thrown over her shoulder, with soft hands.

Sid figured he liked that better than when Helga shoved him.

"How's the fam?"

"I threw the potatoes out the window so I had an excuse to leave," she blinked innocently.

Sid snorted, and shoved his other hand back in his pocket as they strolled in the opposite direction of produce.

"They're just conservative…and judgemental. I love them, but…" she shook her head, "enough of that," they were headed towards freezer waffles. "Enough of that." There was not another place on earth Sid would have rather been in, instead of that waffle freezer aisle, "how is your Thanksgiving going?"

Sid didn't want to tell her so far his Thanksgiving required him to leave his warm comfort blanket of a college campus and return to where he never slept because of the noise and there was nothing but dust and disappointment in the kitchen cabinets.

"It's alright," he settled for that. "So, in our future mansion-"

"We have a future mansion?"

"Why shouldn't we?"

"Shouldn't we aim for the slightly more realistic," Lila grabbed a display of fake fruit without purpose, just running her hands over the plastic grapes. "Our future cottage?"

"How about a villa?"

"I can do villas."

"Okay, so our future villa: how many horses do we have?"

"We have horses?!"

* * *

"How are you, Arnold?" Cass asked as they walked. He was finally warming up in the sunshine.

"I," he licked his lips. He knew he should tell her he's okay. She was, after all, a complete stranger. But she wasn't, not really, and she didn't speak to him like she thought he was one, either. "I dunno."

"Valid answer," she nodded.

It was only a few more steps before Cass spoke again.

"She'll come out of it…" She hummed, kicking a pebble alongside her feet, "she always does."

* * *

"Helga," Bob's voice nearly made her jump six feet out of her skin. She shut the curtains in front of her tightly, who knew why. It wasn't as if anyone was looking in them. Any normal person would apologize for scaring the shit out of their conversational partner, but Bob just kept talking. "What'd ya' think of Cheryl?"

"Who?!" She put a hand on her heart, turning to face her dad.

"The therapist," her dad was shifting awkwardly in front of her. "Cheryl."

Helga didn't mind Cheryl, she didn't think so. Therapy had been good for her once…it could be again.

"I was just thinkin' it's good if we all go…" her dad scratched his neck, "go to the same one."

Helga blinked. Her mind wasn't set for this conversation at all. It wasn't on her mind in the slightest, she was having a hard time computing reactions for it.

"Keep it… in a small circle, I guess."

Helga didn't know what else to do but nod.

"She's been good for me, I mean, I think so…hopefully she can…"

"I hope so too, Dad." Helga interrupted for the sake of her nervous father. So he could stop saying things for the sake of saying words.

"Right, well…" He put his hands in his pockets, "I have work now." He was dressed for it, khakis and all. Retail did that to a man on Thanksgiving. "I can bring home food when I'm done setting up at 8."

"That uh," she wanted to tell him she was good, thanks. But something about the hopeful expression in his eyes made her say otherwise "sounds good, dad."

She tried her best not to revel in his approving smile.

"I'll see you then," he pat her shoulder awkwardly, and then headed down the stairs.

* * *

"We were freshman," Arnold was laughing and he didn't even know when it started. "Sid did the dance, but he was mortified. Glee was an atrocity to high schools everywhere." Arnold wondered how drunk Sid would have to be to do the Single Ladies dance at the next party they went to.

Arnold, even in laughter, tried not to give into the stabbing at his chest that he hadn't taken part in it at all. Gerald knew the dance too, if the entire football team had done it. He never regretted for a day leaving to be with his parents. He did, sometimes, wonder what it would have been like if he had been around.

If anyone had bothered sending him even the shortest letter that might include him in some way.

Anyone but Lila, of course.

* * *

Lila was not skipping on her way back from the ShopRite after two hours discussion on their horses names and what a horses favorite snack actually was, but she was close to it. She had a small bag full of red potatoes.

Her grandparents were still nitpicking everything in their affordable apartment apart by the time she got in the door. They yelled at her dad for the plaid blanket, the one that was her favorite, and the fact their window was drafty. It didn't matter to them their entire apartment was stitched together with their memories together and love.

She wanted to be angrier, as she set the bag down in the kitchen, but Sid had texted her a photo of an overweight mini pony…

She couldn't keep the smile off her face.

* * *

"So," Cass made an odd noise as they rounded another block. "What's surprised you most since your grand return? Besides froyo." She joked.

"Honestly?" Arnold barely needed to think about it. "Sid."

"Ah, yes," she snorted. "Your little protégé."

"…what?"

"I've just met you," she grinned at him, "and I can tell you right away that Sid tries his hardest to be like you."

"Yeah, right." He rolled his eyes a little, "Sid's just a good guy."

"Arnold," Cassidy stopped in her tracks, letting him get a few steps ahead of herself. "Sid has wanted to be you since, like, the fifth grade."

Arnold looked back with a disbelieving leer, "you're kidding."

Cass scoffed, hopping a bit to catch up. She flipped around to face him, walking backwards. "Gee, I'd like to meet the 11 year old who doesn't want to be the kid with a room with a glass ceiling, disappeared on a crazy jungle adventure and is the first, might I remind you, of his friends to have a _real_ girlfriend."

"Really?" Arnold still had a flat look on his face.

Cass rolled her eyes, altering her step to walk beside him again. "When I first met Sid it was Arnold this, Arnold that. If I thought anyone was gay when I met them, it was Sid, for Christ's sake. Now I realize it was all probably this subconscious thing to be more like you to get Helga's attention, not that it ever worked…"  
Cass' eyes were on him suddenly. He didn't know what face he was supposed to be making, how she wanted him to look. Her face seemed to apologize for the overload of information, but also analyzing his reaction. Which he didn't know what it was, he was too busy worrying about what face to make.

"Seriously," she snorted, "I just met you, but if this-" she did a little circle with her pointer finger, "experience is anything to go on, I think you know exactly where Sid picked up his habit of walking a few miles for his friends…"

* * *

Sid whistled in his own, unique way, as in, the worst whistle you can even conceieve, as he let himself back into his mom's house. They didn't have any turkeys left at the ShopRite, naturally, but they had small rotisserie chickens, and cans of green beans. He settled for that, and thought he would wake his mom up and they could have a bit of Thanksgiving, themselves.

Lila had maybe encouraged him, because as they strolled around, the only thing on her mind was really all of her fond stories of her father. Sid thought it couldn't be too late to start making some nice memories with his Mom. They had had Thanksgivings together before, but they mostly consisted of Chef Boyardee and her taking an early night's nap.

"Mom…" he called out as he pushed his door open. There wasn't a reply, but he shrugged. She probably went out for a cigarette. He set the chicken out on the counter, and sat on their one stool with one broken leg.

At five o'clock he called her, feigning casuality and clearing his throat as it rang…trying to keep his breath even when it hit a voicemail with a full in box.

He sat and he watched the small chicken clock they had on the wall that was a few hours behind tick away, not looking at the cracks that it was hung up to cover.

At eight o' clock he knocked on a neighbor's door. The sound of a bottle smashed and a cat made a distressing noise. He immeaditely regretted it, and ran back into his room.

By ten the chicken was cold. He tried turning on their oven, but he assumed they must have been out of gas after a few fruitless attempts. He thought maybe he didn't know how the oven worked. He wasn't sure of a way to know for sure…their wifi stopped working a couple months back.

He microwaved some chicken and green beans on a paper plate he found in one of the lower cupboards, and sat on the floor to eat it, alone.

* * *

"So," Cass said as they arrived back on the street that Helga lived on, a few blocks up. "What are you gonna do?"

"Honestly?" Arnold sighed. "I didn't have a plan."

"Nice, me either. Ever." She knocked her shoulder into his.

He gave her a weak smile.

"This won't fix it, you know…" she put her hands in her own pockets. "This whole…locking herself away, thing. It's kind of fairly common…where they think if they can just get a couple of weeks to fix themselves, it'll all be better…it won't be."

She sighed, scuffing her boots on the sidewalk to slow them down. "There isn't a quick fix for what Helga has…there isn't a juice cleanse or a spiritual awakening to be had." She shrugged. "Recovery isn't like that."

He looked at her, a small gesture for her to keep talking.

"Recovery is more like…this," She looked at her feet. "Where you put one foot in front of the other," she mimicked her joke from earlier. "And just keep going."

"I just," Arnold sighed, "I just wish I knew what I could do…what I should be doing."

She looked up at him with a sad smile. "I want to help, too." She had her hands in her pockets, but a slouch in her shoulders…that small sign of defeat and despair. "We just gotta keep being the people who…"

"Walk a couple miles…" Arnold added on as they walked up the path to Helga's doorstep, where they had looped around back to.

"Which you are." She told him, grabbing his arm lightly. "I don't even know you, but I know how kind you are."

She looked to the door, almost awkwardly, as if she had something else to say.

"Well I'm," Arnold shook his head. "I mean." He shivered a little, he didn't know when his words got so jumbled. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

There was a pause, as if Cass was waiting for something, like a queue in a play. Arnold didn't know what to say. She didn't either, apparently.

"I'm uh," he nodded backwards, "I'm gonna head home now."

"Are you sure you don't want to…" She looked at the door.

He shook his head. "She knows where to find me."

* * *

As soon as Cass put a foot in the Pataki household, she pressed her back up against the door and let out a giant breath. "Tac," she growled, "what the fuck was that?!"

Helga, holding a cardboard box and looking distraught, winced, "I panicked!"

"Oh my god," Cassidy put her face in her hands, "that was so awkward. And anticlimactic."

Helga set the box down at her feet with a huff. "I'm sorry." She spoke aggressively, pacing back and forth. "I just got too nervous!" She flung herself on to the couch. "I'm a failure." She wallowed in her failure on the ugly loveseat that took up most of the space in their living room.

"Yeah, that was a failure."

"Not helping, Cass."

"He wanted to hear what I said from you."

"I know he did."

"It's not too late, you know," Cass checked the time on her phone. "I just walked him in a square around the block for literally an hour for you…I'm sure he'd give you another 15 minutes." Helga groaned.

Helga saw him approaching from a distance and shoved Cass on her porch to let herself stall, earlier that day. She had a little speech prepared, about the box and her poems and her gratitude towards him and she had completely lost it when it was her turn, and let him awkwardly leave. It was a failure, through and through.

"I can't do it."

"You can."

"I can't."

"Do you want to come for dinner?" Cass said, interrupting their little chain, grabbing her bag from by Helga's couch.

"I actually think Bob is coming home."

"…nice," Cassidy hesitated, sitting down next to her. She pat her head affectionately, running her hand over her hair. "If you change your mind…about anything that just happened…well…he's now on his way to his parent's house."

* * *

Some say that all you have when you die is what's on your gravestone, your name. That was all Arnold could think about that Thanksgiving, as he sat at his parent's posh apartment with them and his Grandpa. He hadn't any idea that his name was worth quite so much to quite so many people.

"Excuse me," He offered, not that he was paying any attention to the discussion, "I'm going to go wash my face."

He couldn't help this stirring feeling that he had changed. That the Arnold of old, the one of the legends Cass heard about, would have never left that porch without talking to Helga. That Arnold that was stubborn and tenacious to the point of aching hands and tired feet.

He made a rash decision that day, rinsing his face in their clean white bathroom.

He wondered what excuse to make to his parents as he dried his hands…

Perhaps he could bring up that it wouldn't be he and Helga's first Thanksgiving together.

"Mom, Dad…" He ran back out into the other room, shifting awkwardly with his hands in front of him, "Grandpa…" he smiled fondly at the old man. Phil smiled back. Arnold wondered, even if in his old age, if he had any idea what Arnold was going to say next…

"I'm really sorry, but I think there's somewhere I need to be…"

His dad tossed him car keys before he finished his sentence. "Drive safe."

Arnold all but ran his way into the building's elevator, and unpatiently hopped back and forth as he rode the agonizingly slow ride down to the ground floor. He realized he didn't bring a coat as he rushed out past the door man, and basically slammed into another human being.

"Oh, god I'm sorr-"

"Can you WATCH where you're GOI-" a voice yelled back…a voice he recognized.

His heart stopped, he was sure of it, for a moment, and he looked around and down, into the eyes of Helga Pataki.

"This is," she stammered, shoving a box into his hands. It was overstuffed. "you. And are, I, the bus," she pointed behind her, but he had no idea at what. "Me." She looked right, and then left, and then ran in the other direction, back down the deserted city street. She stopped, right before the edge of the block, and looked back at him.

"Happy Thanksgiving, Arnold."

And then she was gone.

* * *

 _a/n happy thanksgiving in march, y'all!_

 _love u all, pls leave me ur thoughts,quite literally: they make my whole day._

 _xx, k._


	22. Chapter 22

Arnold, at one point in time in his life, would have considered himself an entirely rational human being. The kind of human being who doesn't stay up the entire night staring at diary entries masquerading as letters written years ago.

He went back to the boarding house that night, staring at the scraps and the scribbles and the dog eared corners. The love that was crossed out and the hate that was crossed out harder, the sketch that got ripped in half and yet was included anyway.

There was no almighty connection of the dots – maybe the one he was waiting for so desperately. He barely reacted, flipping through papers and pages with blank faces. His hands shook. He didn't know what this meant for them then…he had no idea what it meant for them now. He worried, a dull ache in his heart, that it didn't mean anything.

The sun greeted him that morning like an old friend returned – someone he knew but hadn't entirely expected to see. It pressed him further into his skin, his eyes sunk into his head and exhaustion weighing on his lungs.

He wasn't ruled by time in that lapse of the universe that Helga caused. He couldn't tell you what time he fell asleep, how long it had been. When he woke up to the jingling sound of his ring tone, he felt like it was possible it was centuries.

"Hey," Sid's breathless voice greeted him, and if Sid was awake on a Saturday it had to be well past eleven. "Do you have plans today?" He heard Gerald yelling for Sid to give him his phone in the background noise.  
He sat up, rolling his neck.

And the earth resumed turning.

* * *

"You just shoved the box in his hands and ran?" Gerald asked her incredulously.

Helga squinted at him.

They were walking along the empty sidewalk the morning after Thanksgiving. It was cold, Helga had her hands in gloves shoved in her pockets. She was wearing her coat for the first time in years. She dug it out of her closet. Sid had woken her up early, climbing into her window, announcing that he was bored. Helga had her suspicions otherwise, but it was kind of an unspoken rule in her friendship with Sid…they didn't talk about it.

He had insisted on getting everyone together, and so, they and Mari and Gerald were currently en route to Arnold's house…as no one was allowed in the H U dorms and that was really the only place to be.

"Not even a 'wassup?" Gerald pushed as they walked down the street. "A, 'hey man, these are technically yours' kinda deal?"

"Well, actually," Sid intervened, looping an arm over Helga's shoulders, "she wished him a happy thanksgiving." Sid's hair really needed a cut that morning, so Helga did it herself. It was now back to being just under his chin. It tickled Helga's face.

"…you went for Happy Thanksgiving and not an explanation?"

"That's it." Helga went rigid, turning on her heel, "I'm going back inside. It's too fucking cold for the third degree."

"No, you're not." Mari was a step behind her, she put her hands flat on Helga's stomach. "Being outside is good for you."

"And besides," Sid commented, pulling out his phone now that they were already at a stop. "Cass is already on her way, she'd kill me if I let you go home."

"It'll be fine," Mari was turning her around already. "I'm sure he's already over the whole thing."

Helga doubted it. And she wished she had something to say, something prepared. She wished she even understood how she felt.

She thought as her friend's chatter turned into background noise, her attention on the cracking of the leaves under her feet, that she was maybe convinced she was going to be unhappy with or without him. And she'd rather be miserable with him than without him. And she thought that sound wholly unpleasant to say to any human being.

Crunch.

* * *

Arnold hated feeling lied to. He especially hated it when he didn't know who he got to blame because it didn't feel like anyone in particular's fault. He watched his friends merge with Cassidy across the street, sitting on the side of the stoop. He knew what he was supposed to do…what he was going to do last night before colliding with Helga. He was going to tell her how felt, _goddamnit_. How she hurt him and he wanted her anyway and it made him _so angry._

And instead he got _cardboard_ and a whole bunch of _confusion_.

And maybe no one in the universe directly lied to him but he was always made to believe that if he loved…if he planted enough love in the metaphorical ground that it would bring happiness. Love and be loved and all of that bullshit and he had planted more love in the ground that didn't exist than any person his hands had touched and what had he gotten handed to him?

Old journal entries and long nights.

* * *

Sid kind of doubted that anyone bothered to think of what they were actually going to do that day as they awkwardly shuffled into Arnold's house. Then they got bored of being in there so now they were back outside on his steps. Sometimes a lot of being a young adult was just awkwardly migrating from location to location because it gives you something to do, Sid thought. Gerald and Arnold were talking about some sort of sporting event…Mari and Cassidy got on surprisingly well and they were mid conversation. Helga sat oddly, with her chin in her palm. "What are you thinking about?" Sid slid in to sit next to Helga,

"I…" Helga swallowed, reshuffling herself on the step. "I don't know." She had forgone the jacket, leaving it on Arnold's rail in his house. Sid wanted to ask if that was just a clever way for her to have a reason to come back. He didn't bother, because he knew it was.

"Well stop it…shit looks sad." He grinned, poking her cheek.

Cassidy was wiggling out of her blue Yale sweater, kicking it down the step to where Helga's backpack was.

"Hey, Cass-" that was a bizarre sentence for Sid to hear Arnold say, "do you want me to put that inside?" He stood up, "I'm gonna run in real quick, anyway."

"Nah, it's fin-"

It landed by Gerald's foot. He investigated it with interest. "You don't actually go to Yale, do you?"

"Fuck no." Cass snorted, "but my family thinks I do."

Sid laughed. He loved Cassidy's parents. "She and her parents told their entire extended family that she's attending an ivy league."

"Just different ones. Aunt Beth is Yale, Grandma is Cornell…" She shrugged. "Anything to spice up family holidays." She leaned back, crossing her arms. "I can only play so many games of chicken feet before I lose my fucking mind."

* * *

Arnold reappeared, reopening the door to his house, and very nearly wiped Helga clean off the step.

"Oh, god, I'm sorry-" He shut it quickly, standing awkwardly beside it.

"JESUS, Footballhead," She shifted down a step so he could get past her. "If you want me out of here so badly, just say so-" she was joking but Dear God, Gerald thought, Arnold's face fell like someone just hit an elderly person with a car…an elderly person holding a puppy and homemade biscuits.

"Helga, I'm sorry, I don't want you to-" He didn't shift around her like she had planned, like she moved so he could. He knelt down to her, like Prince Charming in the worst fucking Disney movie Gerald had ever seen- one where the princess skipped the whole dress thing and was wearing a big old sweatshirt.

"Arnold, I was kidding-" She shuffled away from him. "Seriously, it's fine." Arnold nodded to himself as he stood, brushing off his knees. Gerald shared a look with Mari, who watched the entire thing unfold with a judging glance. She wanted to meddle. He mentally begged her not to, even though he wanted to meddle as well.

Gerald was trying his hardest to sift through the awkward energy Helga and Arnold were creating but he kind of wanted to shove them into the house and lock the door until they sorted out exactly what the fuck they were. In Gerald's opinion, they were being straight up dumbasses. If they both wanted to be together, which they obviously did, then why the fuck were they all entertaining this over drawn musical number? Shit was boring.

"So." Sid said, leaning on the other side, "here's a pitch: we start a rugby team."

"None of us play rugby," Gerald reminded him.

"A hockey team:" Sid chose to talk louder instead of responding, "where instead of a ball, we use spaghetti. Whoever has the most spaghetti wins."

"Sid, why would we do tha-"

Helga kept staring out into space. Gerald really wanted to snap his fingers in front of her face. He resisted the urge, and turned away. He realized, with delight, he could instead call out to Lila, who was just then turning the corner. "Where the fuck have you been?" Gerald checked his watch. It was past two pm. Lila cocked her head to the side.

"I had work," she said incredulously as she walked up. She was lucky the sun had come out…their weather had been ridiculously topsy=turvy that year, but the sun was shining on them all now.

"Ugh," Mari groaned and shoved her face in her hands, "don't remind me, I have to go to work tonight." Her little buns flopped over her head. Gerald laughed.

"Oh, yeah, shit…" Helga perked her head up, with a curious look on her face. "I haven't been to work in like, a month."

"Oh, Helga…you're very much fired." Lila told her sympathetically, clasping her hands in front of herself.

"What?"

"It was my job to tell you, but I thought it would make everything worse."

"…oh."

"It appears I was right."

"It's fine," Sid intervened, pushing himself up with his arms, and then wiggling his way to sit on the top of the stoop. "I got fired from every job I ever had. And see me? I'm doing just fine." Lila stepped up carefully, sitting on the top of the stoop.

"Sid, you called me at 7 a.m. because you were convinced you broke your washing machine." Cass snorted, sitting back on the steps herself. Gerald sat down across from her, tugging Mari down with him.

"It was making strange noises."

"Washing machines always make those noises…" her face crumpled up in confusion, "you _have_ done laundry before, right?"

"…yeah." Sid shrugged unconvincingly, picking at his fingernails.

"Oh my god," Cass groaned, "the two of you, I can't. It's amazing I've been gone for three months and neither of you are dead."

"Or in jail," Gerald grinned his agreement.

An odd look passed over Sid's face, a crumpled, sad-bird kind of look. Gerald looked to Helga, who noticed it too… her eyebrows were furrowed.

"Well, you know-" she started quickly "there was that one time I almost went to jail in junior-"

"Junior year," Cass finished with her with a laugh. "Yep."

"He was an asshole, anyway." Helga leaned back, "they wanted me to at least be sorry about it but I wasn't."

"Only an asshole," Sid added quietly, seeming to be coming out of his shaken state, "would have a camera on his lawn 24/7. Because you know then, like you're acknowledging you had it coming."

"What'd you do?" Mari asked, sitting forward, "And who are we talking about again?"

"Mr. Bronchowitz,"

"Terrible name," Lila interjected.

"He gave me a B on my paper." Helga said with a shrug, as if that were all there was to the story.

"And so, Helga snuck on to his lawn, night before the last day of school…" Cass continued,

"Middle of the night," Sid added.

"Broke into his car,"

"filled his air-vents with mayonnaise,"

"Hot glued bobble heads of Al Gore to his dash,"

"We still don't know where she got them,"

"and took exactly one tire."

"Back left."

"Did you keep it?" Mari asked Helga, laugh on her lips.

"You should know what I did with it," she raised her eyebrows with a smirk. Lila was cutting off a laugh with her hand, staring at Sid. Gerald looked to Sid.

"Dude, you don't remember?" Sid coughed, "she took it to school and put it in a tree."

"Hold on," Cass wrinkled her nose, then laughed again, "I have a picture somewhere…" She pulled out her phone. Gerald liked this girl more by the minute.

Helga had a smirk dancing on her lips. "Fucker could use a good climb anyway…" She put her chin back in her palm, "best part was when he finally got to it." Gerald remembered what happened, and he laughed out loud right there. The group seemed to follow his lead.

"She cut…" Cass all but wheezed, "she cut a big ass slash in it and wrote 'fuck you' on it."

They laughed again. The sun was shining on Gerald's skin, Mari's sweater was soft where it touched his skin. It was good.

"Why did you bother to put it up there if you were gonna destroy it?" Arnold asked her, bemused look on his face.

"I wanted to see him climb the tree."

* * *

Cass made a noise that Lila didn't expect a girl like her to make, high pitched and close to a squeal. Before she could even register who it was, Cassidy was crashing into a person on the sidewalk. Whoever it was, Eugene was on their other side. Cass grabbed him by the shoulder, and shoved him into their hug as well.

"That was quite a reception you got there," Helga muttered, but with bemusement, from her spot on the steps. Lila scooted over so she could see the other person as the hug dissolved.

"Aw, Helga, do you want a hug, too?" Eugene held his arms out. "You know you're in our club, too." He wiggled his fingers at her. She looked like she was considering breaking them.

"Club?" Gerald asked, looking back and forth between Helga at the top of the steps and the group on the ground.

"Hillwood's resident Dead Faggot Society." Thad, who just revealed himself, smirked. He was wearing his contact lenses and a big grin, and he looped his arms over Cassidy's shoulders. "We, by the way, have open enrollment at any point in time." He winked...Lila looked up, and realized he must have winked at Arnold, who was laughing to himself. That...was a joke she must have missed out on. She hated feeling like she missed _anything_.

"SO, who's filling me in, what's going on," Thad walked over to where Sid was sitting, straddling the railing, "who's fucked, who hasn't, who still doesn't like who and is _very_ good at pretending, is anyone dead, and can ANYBODY speak Turkish?" He grinned at the group, "asking for a friend."

Eugene clicked his tongue, "Thad is bored because he has spent the last two days with his paren-"

"THEY ARE SO FUCKING BORING OH MY GOD," Thad whined, grabbing the front of Sid's shirt, "HOW MANY TIMES CAN WE PRETEND THAT WE ENJOY DISCUSSING THE MANY INTRICACIES OF MATHEMATICAL THEORIES."

Sid, evidently, had no idea how to respond. He pet Thad's, very voluminous, hair with sympathy.

"BUUT-" He dropped Sid's shirt, shifting to the side, to lounge on the stoop like a very luxurious woman on a velvet couch, "those weren't actually real questions." Thad had a habit of grinning so wide you could really clearly see his very pronounced houndsteeth. "I know the answers to all of those things about all of you."

They, as a collective group, moved their heads to look at Eugene. He shrugged with modest sympathy.

"It's true," He confirmed.

* * *

"Okay," Thad commented loudly, after the fourth _riveting_ story about random shit that happened at their boring ass university that none of them were there for. "We're going to a party."

"Who's party?" Lila asked, shifting forward in her cute little skirt she was very good at pretending not to be cold in.

Thad blinked. "Correction: we're throwing a party."

Arnold glanced nervously behind himself. "Don't get your panties in a twist, blondie." Thad rolled his eyes, pulling out his phone. "We won't trash your…" Thad waved his free hand around in the air, searching for the word to call it. "Hobbit hole."

"…hobbit hole?"

"I'll just text Rhonda," he didn't answer Arnold's question. Thad wondered, for a second, if it were hard to be Arnold because sometimes it seemed as if the poor child was just shouting into the void.

"… _you're_ gonna text Rhonda?!"

"Arnold," Thad gave him a flat look, "I am literally Rhonda Wellington Lloyd's favorite person on this planet." He rolled up the sleeves of his burgundy knit sweater, and noticed his hair was probably falling into his eyes. He pushed it back and away.

"I'm always down for Rhonda's," Mari added, standing up and stretching out. "She has the nicest-ass carpets."

"You know," Gerald yawned, leaning back on the brick, "we probably shouldn't pick our friends based on carpets." He made eye contact with Thad, holding up his own phone. "Jake's gonna be here any second…we can go after."

"MY Jake?" Helga sat up quickly, suddenly paying some goddamn attention to the group.

"No, what?" Gerald gave her an incredulous look, "Why would I even?" He shook his head, "MY Jake."

"I would like to amend:" Thad commented with a frown, typing out his text to Rhonda, "that all Jakes are their own Jakes and should not be discusses as property, including frogs named Jake and particularly lively lawn flamingos, also named Jake."

No one responded to him. Eugene tiredly turned to Gerald, "hey, is Jake bringing weed?"

"Does Jake go anywhere without weed?"

"Oh, thank God." Eugene heaved a sigh of relief.

* * *

"Holy shit," Jake appeared up the block. He was wearing a hoodie for H U, hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans. "Didn't know I was signin' up for a middle school reunion?" He had this smug, amused look on his face. He hadn't had a hair cut in a while, and he was doing this odd jaunty walk. Gerald realized it had been a while since he had invited the guy anywhere. He wondered if he was supposed to feel bad about that.

They stared around at each other, crammed in on the steps of the boarding house. Helga was stuck in between Eugene and Lila, who was cold, rubbing her hands on her skirt. Gerald pressed into Mari, partially because he was cold, partially because he loved her. Thad had his head in Sid's lap, which he was pretty sure wasn't a sign of friendship as much as it was Thad having a general lack of respect for anyone's personal space. "We're gonna need a bigger stoop," Sid mused from the other side.

"Let's go!" Mari stood up enthusiastically, wiggling as she did so.

"Baby," Gerald stood up next to her, "you have work." He had been wondering when exactly he was going to break down and remind her that.

"Fuck!" Mari imitated her own enthusiastic tone of voice. Gerald could tell she really wanted to put her feet on those carpets. He knew, suddenly, that in his future home he was going to be breaking the _bank_ for carpets.

"I need shoes!" Sid declared, standing up on the top step, making to open Arnold's door. Helga quickly moved down a step, shoving Eugene with her.

"When did you take off your shoes, Sid?!" Cass called after him.

"UGH," Thad groaned as he stood up. "Rhonda's being a total biiitch-" he whined, shoving his phone back into his pocket. "Eugene, you-" He grabbed Cassidy's head, "we out. We'll meet you guys there."

"Did you just call Rhonda a bitch?" Arnold questioned, hopping down from his stoop from the other side.

"Oh yeah," Thad shrugged, shoving his hands into the pockets of his skinny jeans. Gerald realized he had a pair of glasses shoved into one of them as well. "She's like, the worst person in the world."

"Didn't you just say you guys are super close?"

"Oh, yeah, she's like my best friend."

Arnold stared around at the rest of them. "I'm sorry, but is this not confusing to ANYONE ELSE?!"

Mari linked her arm with Cassidy, "walk me to my bus on the way." She still sounded petulant. "And you-" She pointed at Gerald, "WILL send me snapchats of the carpet, so help me God…" He kissed her head. She squinted at him suspiciously.

Gerald sighed. "I promise you snapchats of the carpets."

She smiled sweetly.

"Guess I'm coming, too," Jake added himself on to the group.

"Why-" Eugene started to say, Thad smacked a hand over his mouth.

"You never ask the guy with weed why he's coming," he muttered in Eugene's ear dangerously.

The oddly matched five-some walked away from Gerald, Helga, Lila and Arnold.

"I'm," Lila started to say, "I'm gonna go see if I can help Sid find his shoes." She stood up quickly, letting herself into the boarding house.

"Yeah…" Arnold walked around the side to go up the steps to follow her, "it's not as if there are that many rooms in my house…" they went inside the boarding house, leaving Gerald and Helga on the steps. Which was a thing now, that people would just leave them alone places because they were normal friends and Gerald was used to it and not used to it, all at the same time.

"You know who lives by Rhonda?" Helga asked Gerald, not bothering to look up at him as she tied her shoe. "I mean, if I remember correctly, only like two blocks down… and it's Thanksgiving break, so she's probably home…" Gerald knew by the way her sentence drifted off that they had a mutual understanding of her reference.

"Do you think she'd actually come out and-"

"I highly doubt it." Helga straightened up, "but we could try anyway."

* * *

helga (groupchat) 4:12

We're taking a detour

Be there soon.

* * *

Lila followed Arnold up his stairs. They found Sid curiously sitting on Arnold's bed, boots forgotten at the edge, staring up, out of his ceiling. An odd sentence in general.

"It's weird," Sid commented, frowning at the sky, "the sun keeps setting earlier."

Lila looked up. The beginning of the end of the day was just barely breaching the sky. Her first thought was that yes, the sky did that every year. But for some reason she didn't want to kill Sid's sudden childlike enthusiasm for the sky.

"You're right, Sid." She licked her lips. "It does."  
"Guys," Arnold had this odd, concerned look on his face. He shut his door, and shoved his hands in his pockets, then took them out "what do I do about Helga?"

Sid groaned, and fell backwards on Arnold's bed.

* * *

"What are you doing, Pataki?" Gerald muttered to her. So what, if she wanted to hide behind him in case the Heyerdahls moved or something and the entire thing was about the be super awkward. It might be super awkward even if they hadn't moved.

This was a terrible idea, and she was allowed to say that because it was her idea. They should just keep going to Rhonda's, but there they were on the porch of their very ex best friends house for some reason because they were still hung up on things the way children were and if they had any sense they'd leave immeadi- and Gerald was ringing the doorbell, so _that_ was off the table.

"Ger-" The door opened with the name exiting the house, as if it were a magnificent harmony, "Gerald! I thought that was you."

"Hi, Mr. H."

"You've grown!"

Helga meticulously inspected their Christmas themed plants on their stoop. They had lights. It was well executed. She wondered if they, as a family, had ever really failed at anything.

"I'd hope so." Helga could almost hear the _in a lot of ways_ she knew was on Gerald's mind.

She stopped examining plants because truthfully she knew jackshit about plants, and slid out to the side.

"Hel-" Mr. Heyerdahl seemed more surprised to see her, "Helga Pataki, is that you?" He was older. She knew logistically, that was to be expected. It still surprised her, the lines in his face that weren't there before, and the gray ran deep throughout his hair.

"In the flesh," she responded with a weak smile. He was wearing a sweater vest. She was regretting her sweatshirt. She glanced up to Gerald, "is, is Phoebe home?"

"A whole group of us are actually getting together down the stree-" Gerald began to explain, but Mr. Heyerdahl was shaking his head.

"I wish she was…" he sighed. "But she chose to stay at school over break, focus on some stuff she wanted to finish." He tapped his heart with his hand, "She's taking college really seriously…and she's stressed, to be honest with you."

Gerald and Helga shared a glance.

"That…sucks." Gerald lamented. Helga nodded.

Mr. Heyerdahl sighed again, "you're right. It does 'suck." He pressed his lips together, "but we're so proud of her."

"She'll do great things," Helga assured him. It felt like the right thing to say. Probably because it felt truthful. Helga felt this stirring admiration in her belly for Phoebe…one she thought she always sort of had. It was now unsettling, a reminder that she, on the other hand, hadn't done particularly anything. It was creeping up her spine…feeling like a failure before even attempting anything.

She was rewarded for her statement with his smile. "I'll tell her you came by!"

They stammered. It was less awkward than normal stammering, Helga thought to herself, because it was a team effort. A group grasp at how to respond to that. "Please," Gerald held out his hands, "do not do that."

Mr. Heyerdahl took a moment, staring between the two of them. He had questions of his own, Helga could tell, but he was too polite a man to ask. Helga would have questions, too. Hell, Helga _had_ questions, too.

"Then you were never here." He replied with a quiet grin.

* * *

Lila frowned at the floor for several moments, rolling Arnold's question around in her mind. The first answer on her tongue wasn't necessarily useful, but it might be the only thing to say she felt qualified to say.

Giving people advice was awful in general, really, in Lila's opinion. If everything turned out terrible…then you are partially at fault, no matter your intentions.

Advice was clearly not Sid's forte either, as he chose to take the moment to have a nap on Arnold's bed.

"Whatever you need to do." She said quietly, patting his forearm.

He gave her a look as if that was spectacularly unhelpful.

Sid's phone rang. He sat up, staring at it curiously, cradling it in his hand.

"You know…" he mused, frowning at it, "I had never really believed in God before this moment." Lila had never seen a person look more thankful as he flipped it open and all but ran out of Arnold's room while shouting his greeting at his caller.

She looked at Arnold with a weak smile.

He gave her a flat look in response.

* * *

"You know what I should do," Helga said to Gerald as they walked down to Rhonda's. Her hands were pulled inside her sweatshirt. She had left her coat at Arnold's. She was drained from doing nothing at all the entire day. Her emotional roller-coaster had suddenly flat-lined and suddenly there was nothing but the wind and the sidewalk and the sun setting behind them. She couldn't tell if the numbness was from the chill or her mind.

"What?" Gerald asked, his own hands in his pockets.

"I should go to college."

Gerald exhaled. "Yea, Pataki." He whistled, "you probably should."

* * *

"So…" Lila commented behind the closed door, "what _are_ you going to do about Helga?"  
"I have no idea." Arnold sat down on his bed, putting his head in his hands. "I think we probably shouldn't date because this isn't like, good for us, but I don't know how we can be together and not be together but I also think that-"  
"Well stop it." Lila told him, crossing her arms.

"…what?!"

"Stop all this," she waved her hands in his general vicinity, "thinking. It's clearly getting no one anywhere."

He blinked at her. He couldn't believe the only actual advice he was able to literally squeeze out of his friends was to 'stop thinking.'

"Oh my god," Lila breathed in horror.

"What?!" Arnold glanced up with concern.

"He's still not wearing any shoes." Arnold looked down. There were Sid's boots by his bed. …Actually, come to think of it, he wasn't that surprised the only advice he could squeeze out of his friends was to stop thinking.

He groaned, and picked them up. "He's gonna get a cold." He grumbled to himself, "I'm taking these outside to him. Grab your coat."  
He left Lila in his room, trotting down his steps after Sid.

Arnold opened the door to the boarding house. Sid was sitting at the bottom of it, looking out across the street, chin in his hand. His phone was sitting silent beside him. Arnold couldn't help but feel like, and granted it was getting colder physically outside, but as if the air was cold. As if somewhere in between the steps and the door there was a weird shift in the universe and that things were different on the outside than they were before.

He wasn't sure if he could handle two lapses in the universe in one day.

"What's up," Arnold walked down the steps carefully.. He stopped on the second to last one. Sid's face was shining, wet with…something. Arnold knew they were tears, but they didn't belong, not on Sid's face… He couldn't process them as tears because they were so out of place.

"I'm, uh," Sid sniffled, wiping his face with his jacket, "I might lose my academic scholarship."


	23. Chapter 23

The door opened before they had even gotten to the first step of the stoop. "SO UH, YEAH." A voice called from inside as it slammed on to the brick siding of the house, revealing a pink faced Thad with his glasses pushed up on his head, "WE'RE ALREADY DRUNK."

The three of them had walked over in relative silence. Lila looked to Arnold nervously. He grabbed Sid's shoulders in front of him, digging his thumbs into his collar bones.

"No drinking until we figure this out." He told him hoarsely, pushing him gently up the steps. Thad looked like he opened his mouth to ask what Arnold meant by that, but decided he genuinely did not give a fuck, and did a half pirouette, half horse high on molly spin away.

Sid groaned as they reached the top, leaning his head back so it landed on Arnold's shoulder, "is faking my own death completely out of the question?"

"We'll see after we check Blackboard," Lila told him quietly, grabbing his wrist and tugging him inside.

* * *

It was one in the morning and Sid was deliberating whether or not jumping off of Rhonda's balcony would kill him or if it would just add a broken leg to his problems. He ran his hand through his hair as he tried to focus his eyes on the computer screen. Rhonda had laid out this really complex excel spread sheet while sipping an entire bottle of champagne by herself. She had her hair clipped up off her neck and her glasses were sitting just barely on the tip of her nose, as if they were going to make a break for it at any moment.

"So, baby," Sid had no idea when he became anyone's baby let alone Thad's, but he was already too exhausted to commentate on it, "looks like if you spend your every waking moment dedicated to some sort of studying," Thad stood up from where he was crouched by Rhonda's shoulder, taking another sip of beer, "you might be able to continue life as you now know it."  
Helga sat on Rhonda's other side with a notebook with percentages scribbled out across it, figuring out what was going to get him the highest weighted average to turn in first, then do next. Lila sat behind her, half braiding Helga's very long hair, half trying not to look like she was completely asleep on Helga's back. Unlike Eugene, who was straight up softly snoring on the one corner of Rhonda's bed.

"I got you the notes for Tuesday's bio exam." Gerald sat up on the couch, tossing his phone to the floor with a yawn.

"And there's like, an entire math lab online," Arnold stared at his own phone, leaning forward and crossing his feet underneath him, "that lets you practice for that retake. Trial and error."

Sid's heart was racing and his hands were shaking. He had the strongest flight instinct that he had ever felt, but there was no where to run, and there was nowhere to hide. His friends saw it all, all the missed assignments on Blackboard, the ignored emails from his Dean.

He had only missed a few classes, but it had piled up quicker than anything had in high school and he found it so distracting and stressful that he had just shut down and hadn't known how to deal with it at all and now that there was a plan, on excel to be exact, he still wanted to run.

There was just nowhere to go.

"I'll be right back," he said to no one in particular, standing up quickly and all but running down Rhonda's steps, barely picking up his jacket from the landing before going out to the porch.

The porch didn't have any better answers for him. He had dug himself into a hole and his friends wanted to build him a rope bridge out of it and all he wanted them to do is stop and go the fuck to sleep.

The door slid open. He wasn't even aware he closed it. He gripped the wood of the porch, hoping he'd get a splinter or something, some sort of pain to focus on that wasn't that crushing feeling in his chest.

"It's gonna be okay, you know." A quiet voice came from behind him by the patio door. He pushed a hand back through his hair again, fingers sliding over the braid made by the girl behind him. He smiled in spite of himself.

"Yea," He breathed, "we have the spread sheet and we printed notes and there's the online math lab thing." He didn't turn around, wringing his hands nervously in front of him, letting the chill of December seep into his fingertips.

"Sid," Lila said gently, raking her fingernails gently against his forearm. They were painted with chipped polish. He turned back to her finally. She had taken off her makeup, but he could barely make out the freckles on her cheeks and the small patch of acne on her right jaw, lit by the porch lights and the light inside. She had let her hair down, it fell closer to her face than it normally did and fell in soft waves down her shoulders.

The chill was creeping up Sid's spine and he felt his chest cave in a little more than it had when the phone call happened.

"It's gonna be okay regardless," she told him with a quiet firmness, reaching up with her other hand to get the sole strand of her that was migrating towards his eyelashes out of his face. She scratched her finger on his skin as she picked for it, "you could fail every class, fail out of HU…" she didn't make eye contact, concentrating on the sole strand of hair. Sid focused on her eyes, wishing he could tell they were green at the moment. "I mean," She smiled as she got it, a victorious little smirk, "I don't mean to spoil the ending, but," she pushed her fingers back through Sid's hair, returning the strand to the rest of them, "it's gonna be okay."

His hands had started sweating before sunset yesterday and hadn't stopped since but he grabbed her chin in between his thumb and his forefinger anyway. There was something he was supposed to say, some sort of thank you or something else and even though he wanted to, even though he needed to, he wasn't sure if the Earth was in the right place under his feet yet or if the stars were arranged in the pattern that would let him not fuck it up and he didn't want to muddle the memory of it with the memories of the awfulness of the last six hours and he just dropped his forehead on to hers and whispered "I'm already tired."

She let her hand fall from his hair to his neck as she replied, in the same, small, soft voice, "I know."

Moving so slowly she might have actually melted into his skin, she slipped her head into the space between his neck and his shoulder, reaching her arms up around his neck. He had his arms wrapped so tightly around her he would have been worried about her ability to breath had he not needed something to hold close so badly.

And though he was clutching her, he knew, as her chest pressed into him, as he could just faintly make out how hard her heart was beating, that she was the one holding him up at the moment. From her words, to her chapped lips and her finger tips in his hair, she was the only reason he was still standing.

And Sid never thought another person's heartbeat would ever matter so much to him, and he knew he should tell her that. Tell her something.

But he lost track of time out there on the porch, let alone his ability to form coherent sentences.

* * *

"He's panicking." Cass said a moment after Lila had shut the door of the porch. She was nervously nibbling on the skin by her fingernails. She leaned on the balcony, looking at the door even though, despite the glass, the angle wouldn't allow her to see anything.

"Who could blame him," Gerald groaned, putting his face in his hands.

"He can't, though," Arnold stood up, walking over to Rhonda, picking up her computer, running his eyes over the spreadsheet again, "and he shouldn't. We have this figured out."

"That's a lot, though," Stinky added reasonably from his spot on the bed. "That's a lot for anyone."

"But panicking isn't going to help." Arnold insisted, "and he can do this."

"He can," Cass agreed without turning around, staring at the door still.

Helga sat on the floor, staring around at them all, and trying to keep her eyes off Arnold and his concern as he looked over the sheet again. His eyebrows were crumpled the way they did when he had given himself a headache from the worrying.

"But he might not," she finally said what was on her mind from the moment Sid had gone the steps. "He has to do it alone. And he might not." She didn't know what to look at, so she settled for examining the creases in her skin created by her socks, she ran her thumb over the red skin. "But we…" and by We, she meant Arnold, "can't do it for him." She licked her lips and shrugged, keeping her eyes determinedly on her ankle, "I know that better than anyone."

"When we try and do it for him," Cass added quietly from her spot, speaking Helga's language fluently, "all we do is get our hopes up to the heavens and create pressure that rivals the planet's core."

* * *

"That sounds like," Mari mused quietly as they walked down a small lane of their town in the frigid December morning, "the worst party that has ever existed." Gerald had filled her in, on Sid and the party and that everyone, Cassidy included, had returned to their respective colleges that Monday morning.

Gerald wrapped an arm over her shoulder, "the carpets _were_ on point, though." She laughed and let herself be tugged into his arm.

His mind was buzzing with the thoughts of the printed out transfer application in his backpack, and how he was going to tell her. She was already talking, about how she knew someone in Sid's class and how it wasn't that hard and that he could catch up, as if they hadn't spent literal hours already figuring out exactly how he could. He kissed the top of her head and let her talk anyway.

* * *

Helga yawned next to Arnold as the they stared at the project they had covered themselves in Elmer's glue and small paper sticks for. Sid was already snoring on the table next to them as they sat in HU's library, trying their hardest to look like students that actually went to school there.

"It's a solid B+." She nodded, examining the bizarre pipe cleaner that got there by accident that they were fairly sure they couldn't pull out without the entire thing collapsing.

"That's all he needs." Arnold's phone started to jingle, he swallowed and then cleared his throat before answering, in a small attempt to make it seem like they hadn't stayed up all night working on this structure. "Hey, Dad, what's up?"

She ran her fingers through Sid's tangled hair, letting him sleep for the twelve minutes he had before he had to go to history. She'd never do it if he were awake. She scratched her fingers on his scalp, wishing quietly under her breath that he'd do it, that he'd make it.

She knew, in the back of her mind, what no one else knew, maybe not even Cass, that if he should fail…

Well, there was an offer from his cousin to come live with him, and learn to work with cars in his shop.

Eight hours away.

In Maine.

And Sid would do that before he'd move back into his house.

"Uh, yeah, I can do that." Arnold checked his watch, "Eight p.m. Yeah. I'll be there. Okay, Dad. Love you too, bye now." Helga tried not to notice how her heart swelled at his complete lack of inhibition when it came to affection with his parents. Arnold set down the phone with a yawn. "I'm going to nap in Sid's dorm." He said to her, smiling softly at the snoring Sid.

"I'll come." She meant to phrase it as a question, but she didn't. She let the statement sit between them anyway. "After he goes to History we have to get some of Calc down…we'll do it while you're out with your dad."

He nodded.

He swallowed again, in an unnatural way. Helga braced herself.

"How is your Dad?" Arnold asked shyly, not quite looking up at her. "How is…home, I guess?" She didn't even want to address in her thought the fact that he had such a hard time calling her house with her parents her home.

"Better." She replied quickly. "We're both in therapy, and we went once together. And that's…good, for us, I think it really is. We don't have cable, you know?" She said it so quickly and close together she thought she might have lost him, but Arnold's eyes stayed clear on hers. "I found that out. Apparently we haven't in ages, I just didn't know. We could afford cable or wifi and my dad knew that it was really, like, necessary for me and so, like. Yeah." She coughed, gripping Sid's neck gently, and shaking him away.

"Squid, kid."

Sid groaned, pushing his face into the table.

"History, buddy. Up and at 'em. We made you this…thing for bio, and all you have to do in History is show up and stay awake. Gerald will be there to pinch you. Move it or lose it."

She couldn't stop thinking about the gnawing feeling in her stomach that she had hurt Arnold as they all but shoved Sid into his classroom. She thought about it as they walked in silence to Sid's door, fiddling with Sid's student id in her hand. She gave him the box so he knew exactly how much she had cared, and cared still.

She just had no idea if it worked and would rather throw her head in a fucking table than ask.

"God," Arnold said as he threw the door open to the small, dark dungeon that masqueraded as a living space for young adults. "I'm so tired." He slipped out of his shoes right at the door, throwing his hoodie on to the vacant chair.

She shut the door behind them quietly, stepping on her heel to get out of her sneakers as well. He sat back on Sid's bed, aimlessly talking about the last time they had stayed up all night, and how his Grandpa was now, and her mind was doing a better job than she would have thought it would at focusing on his words.

He spoke with such passion about the cranberry sauce at the nursing home. He could speak passionately about anything, Helga decided, leaning on the door. He was describing it in detail, and then what his Grandpa had to say about it with a verbatim quote, Helga was sure of it.

She didn't know how to say anything she had on her inside correctly. She didn't want to say sorry, because she wasn't. She didn't want to say thank you, because it felt wrong. She didn't want to tell him how badly she wanted to kiss him, because that felt like it demanded something of him. She wanted words that didn't ask anything of him, that didn't demand his response, that didn't do anything but let him know that she could watch him talk about cranberry sauce for hours.

"Helga?"

"Yes?"

"…you're staring."

She swallowed the quip that nearly flung itself out of her mouth. She looked down at the floor, that would have been messier if Sid didn't own about 9 & ½ possessions. She looked back to him, to his eyes.

"You're important to me." She told him finally. She should have added something like, 'and I needed you to know that' or 'I'm sorry if that wasn't clear' or anything else, something that would have made it less out of place. Less bizarre. But she let it hang in the air, throwing itself out there like the first person on a dance floor.

He looked in between her eyes carefully, shifting forward so his feet were on the ground as he sat on the bed. He was looking for what to say, she knew it, but she hadn't even known what to say herself.

Then, without saying anything at all, he just held his arms open. No demand, no questions, just an invitation.

She walked over, carefully, deliberately, but then...she let herself collapse into them.

"Keep telling me about Grandpa," Helga said into his neck.

And even though they went to the room with the intention to nap, exhaustion barely letting them keep their eyelashes apart, and making their muscles feel like maple syrup, he opened his mouth and kept talking. And the talking continued, for another three hours, until Sid was banging on his own dorm door.

And neither of them would remember in the slightest just what they talked about.

* * *

"Arnold," Arnold was glad he decided to throw on the button down he had in the back of his car. "I want you to meet David." David was a man shorter than he and his father by quite a bit, with a dark, ethnically ambiguous complexion and a bright, white smile.

"Hi," Arnold held out a hand, hoping he combed his hair well enough because he had heard his Dad say there would be company, but he wasn't sure when he woke up from the nap he had while Sid and Helga studied whether or not he dreamed it. "Really nice to meet you."

"Your father tells me you have a gift in archaeology."

"Steady hands," Miles nodded, doing a bizarre jazz hands gesture that Arnold was sure seemed like a much less awkward idea in his dad's mind.

Arnold blinked. He looked up to his dad, and to his mom who was standing in the kitchen door way.

"Miles," she called out to him. "Your chicken is making that terrifying noise."

"It's a timer, Stell. You just need to take out the fish and brush it with the-"

"You know," she poked her head out again, "as well as I do that that is going to go terribly wrong, and I don't know how, but it will."

"Right, then…" He bowed out of their conversation, returning to the kitchen to join his wife who held out the chicken to him as if it burned her. He held open his hands for her to toss it to him. She did. He dropped it.

"I, quite clearly," Arnold said to David with a grin, "learned from only the best and the brightest."

David laughed.

* * *

Lila redid her hair at least four times that morning mostly so her hands would have something to fidget with while she went over the essay she needed to write in her mind. She knew it was just the final stretch for them all, but Christmas break seemed so far away, even though it was only two weeks on the dot, and the ache in her neck felt like it would be somewhat permanent.

Arnold 9:12  
I'm coming to campus  
Do you want coffee

Lila 9:13  
Yes of course  
You're a tugboat, arnold

Arnold 9:13  
Im a what now?

Lila 9:14  
I meant dreamboat  
….  
Did you know that the blood from a human erection has enough blood to keep three separate gerbils alive

Arnold 9:17  
….  
I'm bring coffee now

Lila 9:18  
Please

Lila left her door open but Arnold knocked anyway, Sid in tow behind him.

"I officially know calc, or I don't. There is no in between." Sid announced as he entered the room, stretching high above his head. Arnold put a soothing hand on Lila's shoulder.

"Coffee?" He held it out in front of her with his other hand.

She craned her neck forward without breaking her focus on the screen and kissed his thumb "you are a Godsend."

She finished typing her sentence and shut her computer, taking the coffee from him with a grateful smile. Sid was eyeing her carefully, leaning against the wall by her door. She rolled her eyes, and held an arm open for him to come to her. He did, with a boyish grin and the demeanor of a floppy puppy as he sat beside her on the bed.

"So, calc is mastered?" She asked as she sipped her coffee. Arnold flipped her desk chair around and sat on it backwards. She reached around Sid to pick up her computer and handed it to Arnold. "Plug this in for me? It has to be, like, all the way on for it to charge, the passwords is 'I hate sunscreen,' no spaces."

"You hate sunscreen?"

Lila shrugged, "I must have had a sunburn that day."

"Calc is," Sid finally answered, "or it isn't." That wasn't how Lila expected that sentence to end but she let it be anyway, letting her head fall on Sid's shoulder. "Hey…" he said gently, grabbing her chin and tilting her face to the side.

"UGH," she groaned, throwing herself away from him and into her many pillows. "You noticed, I knew you would." She spoked into her pillow bitterly. "The two of you, the most fucking observant people on the planet." She flailed her one hand by her head.

"I know _several people_ that would beg to differ, "Arnold countered.

"Hey, it's okay…" Sid rubbed his hand on her shoulder blade. "You could barely notice it."

Lila rolled over finally, and put her feet on her bed so her knees were bent up.. Sid grabbed her knee, pressing his thumb into an indentation in it. "It gets worse when I'm stressed." She rubbed her thumb on the patch of break outs that used to sit under her jaw but now were slowly climbing so they were visible on her face.

"You're stressed?" Sid's brows furrowed. "Can I do anything to help?'

"Sid, you barely have time to eat." She shuffled herself up on the bed, putting a pillow into her lap.

He opened his mouth and then shut it. "You have a point there."

"Lil," Arnold was staring at her laptop. "Is it okay if I forward myself something from your email?"

"Why are you going through my orders and YouTube subscriptions?" Lila asked with a smirk. "But of course, Arnold. My emails is your'ses emails."

Arnold looked up at her over the screen. "I don't think that was English."

"I don't think you is English." Sid countered. He held out his hand for a high five from Lila. She looked at it, groaned and shoved her face into the pillow pet in her lap. It was shaped like a dolphin.

* * *

"You might move _where_?" Gerald asked Arnold incredulously as they sat in the dining hall, which Arnold was buying lunch at so frequently he might as well buy a meal plan.

"Look," he put his utensils down on his plate. "I mean, technically, I've been doing the position for years, but being an assistant on a research site is an enormous deal for someone without-"

"Without a bachelor's degree, I'm sure." Gerald finished for him, biting into his sandwich. "But does this dude know you haven't even started?"

"He has to!" Arnold insisted, "he's known my parents for years. And if I intern with him, even though I didn't go to high school or do any of the extra curricular stuff everyone else did-"

"Yeah," Gerald snorted, "you really missed out when it came to being baseball captain."

"Did you even have a baseball captain?"

"I don't fucking know."

"Anyway," Arnold rolled his eyes. "He's got real ties at Princeton."

"University?!" Gerald spoke with his mouth full of sandwich.

"No, Princeton the weird guy who lives on 34th who collects napkins-" Arnold replied sarcastically. "Of course, University."

"Why should that matter?" Gerald bit his sandwich again. "What you gonna do there?"

"Archaeology."

"You really gonna move to Jersey for archaeology?"

"Gerald, can you be an adult for, like, four minutes?"

"I'm sorry man, but Jersey fucking sucks."

"But Mexico could be really cool!" Arnold countered, picking up his utensils.

"For the entire fall?! And then what? You're gonna just haul ass and move to Jersey?" Gerald leaned forward, "what about the boarding house, man?"

"Look," Arnold rubbed a hand above his brows, feeling the oncoming headache just waiting under his skin. "I know we're both tired but, I don't know, can you think on this and give me like, an honest opinion about it?"

Gerald put his sandwich back and sat back in his seat. He stared at the plate for a second, crossing his arms, and then up to Arnold.

"So your parents want you to fly out to California at the end of next week and present with them at this conference?"

"Yes."

"And then, you maybe make a meeting with David and friends, meet some people, and maybe take the job for next fall?"

"Right."

Gerald looked back down at the table. "Man, I don't know-" he picked up his sandwich again. He bit into it instead of saying what he wanted to say. That Arnold had just came back. That he maybe didn't want him to leave again. At all. In the slightest. And that Arnold was right, that he was being childish about it and Arnold was apparently just much better at being an adult than he was. "It's a good opportunity." Gerald said after a moment. He wondered what Arnold was thinking as he stared at him eating his sandwich. "You'll be back in time for Christmas?"

Arnold grinned, huffing out a little breath, "day before." He smiled weakly.

* * *

Sid 4:12  
where r u

Helga 4:43  
Library

Sid 4:44  
.at hu?

Helga 4:45  
Nah  
Public  
Going home now tho.

Sid 4:46  
Y tho  
Y subject urself to that

* * *

Arnold 4:51  
Hey.  
You're at the library?  
Do you want a ride home?

Helga 4:52  
Nah  
Probs one of the last days to walk before the snow ruins the sidewalk  
Won't get paved until nature paves it in spring

Arnold 4:54  
Haha, ok.  
Everyone has essays to write now.  
Do you want to eat food tonight

Helga 4:55  
I mean  
I do most nights

Arnold 4:56  
I meant together  
I have something I wanted to ask you about.

Helga 4:57  
Yea.  
Okay, pick me up

Arnold 4:58  
When?

Helga 5:09  
Whenever u get here

Helga rolled her eyes and shut her phone and shoved it into her bag. She felt good, light, as she stepped in the crisp air, tugging her gloves on her hands so they went into her jacket better. It was weird, scrounging around in the couch to find enough change that she could scrape together enough to get stuff printed at the library, but she now had the applications to several colleges tucked into her bag, and she felt ready, inspired, even, to work on them when she got back to her house.

She had grown accustomed to sit in this patch-work chair that she pointed out to her Dad on the sidewalk out for trash. A few years ago they might have scoffed, but they both saw that it was large and reclined and it was very comfortable. It was a soft place to think, a soft place to be. She and her Dad still hadn't grown much accustomed to discussion, but they sat together often. Him in his chair, her in her own, and they drank from mugs and didn't say much of anything, and that suited them, just fine.

"Hey, dad?" She was a little confused to see his car in the lot, as it was a time he'd normally be at one of his jobs. She dropped her backpack, the brown one the Cass bought her, into her chair with the ugly plaid patches. "Are you home?"

She supposed it was lucky, that they got the chair, that she had that bag. The entire world came together like that, that moment that kind of let her know it was supposed to be that way. Reassuring, a calm hand on the shoulder from the universe, a gush of wind that reminds you that not only are you where you are, but you are where you're supposed to be. Because, frankly, had things been different, had there been anything in her hands, it would have gotten dropped. But there wasn't, because she had put it down on the chair and that had led her to this moment where she was standing in her doorway and staring at the people sitting at her kitchen table.

"…Mom?" Helga asked quietly.

"Hi, honey," replied a smiling, reserved, Miriam Pataki.


	24. Chapter 24

Helga unbuttoned her coat with cold, numbing fingers. "Hi, uh, Mom." Her skin was pricking, as if there were an actual intruder in her house. That's how foreign the woman in front of her felt. "You're home?"

Of course she was home, Helga thought, where else would she be while sitting in front of Helga's face in the kitchen.

"It was a quick decision." She shared a smile with Bob. Bob gave her his best attempt at one in return, which resembled something vaguely similar to a flower pot making an attempt at being a tea kettle. "But when I got the offer to leave the half-way, well…" She shrugged. "They know when it's time!"

"Was," she put her jacket over the back of a chair. "Was your flight okay?"

"Oh, yes!" Her mom nodded politely. "Very good, thank you."

"Good," Helga nodded awkwardly, leaning on the back of the chair with both palms gripping the fading exterior of her coat. "Excuse me, I have business in the…closet, yes, now. I'll be right back."

"Ah, yes, I'll come with you." Bob spluttered out, and she could hear his thumping footsteps as she sped out of the room. Their house was so small now, and they had no closet large enough to house the both of them. Helga settled for midway stairs, flipping around and hissing at him in a panicked whisper.

"SOME WARNING," She whispered as loudly, as angrily, as she could, "WOULD HAVE BEEN WONDERFUL."

"I'M IN AGREEMENT," Bob muttered back, eyes wide and his hand gesticulating. "She called ME at the airport five hours ago!"

"I don't even know what to say!"

"I don't either!"

"Do you think she's," Helga looked shiftily around the corner. "Better? For real this time?"

Bob gave a tired sigh, large hands coming to rest on the railing, knuckles seemingly more protruding than they ever had been before. His dark circles ran deep as his wrinkles. Helga noticed from her high vantage point, for the first time, that his hair was thinning on the crown of his head.

"I don't know," he replied in a soft whisper. He looked out over their living room with a cold stare. Helga turned her body so she was too. They already had so little. The faded, ugly, plaid couch. Her armchair, the small pile of dvds because of their lack of cable. The very old laptop her father had on a table they picked up at a yard sale that wasn't large enough to accommodate a desk chair, not that they had the space for one.

"I wish Olga were here." They said in unison, Helga wished she could feel more surprised her Dad had the same thought she had.

"Well." Bob said finitely, slamming his hands down and turning to walk back down the steps. "It's not like the longer we stand here the more likely she is to go away, so." He trumped down the steps, and back into the kitchen. She watched her father go, and took a deep breath, before following him.

* * *

"Well, as it turns out," Miriam was rambling. Helga nervously fiddled with her coffee cup. The one she had to clean because they only had four and her Mom and Dad already had two of them and the others were dirty. It was chipped in the base, in the handle. It used to have a pattern, or logo of some sort. It had long since faded. "Linda is a really spectacular artist, and so we started painting together." Miriam had a warm hand on her chest, "I'd just love for you two to see what I came up with. I think I could really have something here."

"That's great, Miriam." Bob commented in what sounded like his most honest attempt to not sound as bored as he was.

"Tell me," Mom was ignoring him, and reached out to grab Helga's hand from her cup "about you. Tell me about your life, your friends. Your father told me you've recently made some."

"That is not how I said that, Mir-"

"They're great." Helga interrupted, giving her father a sharp look. He took another grumpy sip of cold coffee. "I just filled out a bunch of applications for school this afternoon, and so, that's good, right?"

"Oh, Helga," her mom squeezed her hand, "that's wonderful, I can drive you to the post office tomorrow to drop them off if you'd like!"

A shiver went up Helga's spine as she thought about the amount of times her mother told her that without doing it. They were just very different letters she had wanted to send, then.

"A lot of that stuff is online, now, Miriam." Bob replied in a not undecent attempt at being kind. "I'm sure most of it's taken care of."

 _Everything but the application fees,_ Helga thought to herself bitterly. She decided that bringing up money was about the last thing to bring up, except for-

"So," her mom removed her hand, "have we heard from Olga?"

Goddamnit.

"No." Bob said curtly, pushing away from the table. "Anyone need a heat up? Sorry it's so goddamn cold in here." He picked up his coffee. Helga gratefully handed him hers.

Heat, and therapists, were apparently very expensive.

She looked at Miriam, who was giving her a warm smile. She had her hair off her neck in a massive clip, and she was wearing this button up with all sorts of floral embroidery on it. Her glasses sat on the top of her head, her nails were painted a mint green. Her skin looked tan and freckled, her eyes were so wrinkled in the corner.

A loud knock came from the front door, startling Helga. She jumped, and then realized how unease she really must have felt. She looked down at her little phone, realizing she had several missed texts from Arnold. That he was outside, that he climbed her fire escape, to just a final "where are you?!" text.

"I'll get it," she excused herself ungracefully, all but throwing herself out of her chair and towards her door.

"Hey," Arnold was standing outside, and holy shit, it was snowing. He looked cold and made of warmth all at the same time, cap stretched over his head so his hair just barely hung out, pink nose and neck. He beamed at her in the cold-ass night.

"Hey," She stepped out, shutting her door quickly behind herself. She grabbed his upper arm, stepping down from the boost up so they were on the same level.

"Whoa, you should put a coat on-"

"It turns out this is a really, really bad time,"

They spoke at the same time, but Arnold heard what she said anyway. His smile fell and her heart sank.

"Why?" He asked, reaching for her hand on his arm.

She jumped back, away from him. "It's just, stuff, Arnold."

"What…stuff?" He asked gently, moving his head around, trying to catch her eye.

"STUFF." She bit back, throwing her arms out with exasperation. "Stuff I GOTTA go deal with, so if you DON'T MIN-" before she finished her last word, she looked up to him, and actually caught his eyes.

They stood there in the flickering light of her porch, light seeping in from the windows with the terrible blinds on creaking steps. He had a running nose that was cracking from the cold at the edges, and snow on the tips of his hair. His hands were still held out to her, fingertips bright red in the fingerless gloves. His mouth slightly open, his eyes so bent up, so sad.

She took a deep breath, "my mom came back, Arnold." Her eyes pricked with tears at the corners, her voice cracking on the word _Mom_. "And I don't-" He was stepping towards her, wrapping his arms around her carefully, "She's in there. And she's asking about Olga. I don't know where she is, Arnold. I don't know. I want her to come home so badly, but we can't fucking find her. I don't know what I'm supposed to do. Or who she - _Miriam_ even is. I barely even recognize-" she shoved her face into his chest. She had no idea her arms were fucking freezing until they were surrounded with the warmth of his. She shuffled in closer, feeling his chin digging into a piece of her head like if he held her close enough he might be able to melt her into him, whisk her away.

"It's okay," he ran his nails along her shoulder, soft gentle scraping, "you don't have to," he spoke quietly, gently, but with power like a subtle beat along a baseline. A quiet, powerful humming, against her chest as he spoke. "You don't have to do, or be anything. It's okay, Helga."

She thought if she closed her eyes for only a second, the brushing of her lashes, the beat of a wing could create a lapse in the universe where they might be able to just stay there in that moment. To stay with heavily beating hearts, and the smell of garlic potato and cologne in his sweater and snow creating wet spots in her hair, and the light not seeping into her closed eyes at all.

Then he breathed a little too deeply and she became all too aware of reality.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do now," she repeated as she pulled back, just

enough so she could look at him, look at his eyes and ignore his ugly plaid scarf.

"What do you need to-" He drifted off as his gaze looked away, beyond her. Helga whipped around to see what he was staring at.

Her mother was staring out of the window, beaming at them. She waved with enthusiasm. Helga felt her face reddening.

"COME INSIDE KIDS," Miriam mouthed with over-exaggeration, waving them inside with a grand gesture so they'd understand. Helga winced, because she could have shouted at a regular volume and they would have heard it, that's how crappy her house was. Miriam didn't know that. "IT'S COLD OUT THERE," she made a gesture that indicated it was cold by rubbing her hands on her arm.

She could feel Arnold's laugh in his chest before she could hear it. He was staring at her face, some sort of combination of embarrassed and appalled and bewildered, she was sure.

"What am I supposed to do with that." She asked him flatly. He laughed again, and her heart was tap dancing around her chest.

"What do you need to do?" He asked her, managing to complete his sentence that time, rubbing his hands on her arms, as if Miriam's little dance move reminded him that it actually was quite cold outside.

"Need to?" Helga raised her eyebrows. "I guess like, besides eat tonight and sleep I don't NEED to do anything?"

"So you don't _have_ to do anything, either." Arnold reasoned, shrugging his shoulder.

"I just need to…be?" She reasoned, following his logic. "Then? Be… in there? _Be_ …in general." She rolled the word, which was slightly starting to lose meaning she thought it so many times, around in her head.

"Just need to be." Arnold nodded as if he agreed. "Be you…in there," he nodded at the door, as if to give his permission to skip out on their plans, not that Helga thought he wouldn't. "Being you is always enough."

Had it been any other day, maybe if it weren't snowing and his lips weren't chapped and his ear lobes weren't such an interesting shade of fuscia, she would have punched him. But she was so in her head, so in her feelings, that a reminder to just step out and be in the moment came and smacked her right in the stomach.

She hugged him, not as aggressively, but tightly, one more time, and whispered a "thank you" so quietly into his chest because she was sort of hoping he wouldn't hear it.

She knew, when ran his fingers through her hair so closely that his nails raked gently against her scalp, that he did anyway.

Miriam was banging on the window. Helga turned around with an exasperated look. "WE HAVE COFFEE" she pointed at a mug, the one Helga had just washed, that she was sure her mom intended for Arnold, with excitement. She put one hand over the side of her mouth, locking eyes with Helga "HE'S CUTE." She mouthed at Helga, as if the hand on one side of her mouth made it any less visible to Arnold himself.

Helga smacked her face with her hand.

* * *

Lila was walking with the slightest bounce in her step. She had just turned in her final research paper in the most boring class in the world, two weeks early, so she could focus on her math. She was wearing a shirt a few sizes too big and a few inches too short, as it was Mari's, and all it said was THE FUTURE IS FEMALE in black lettering. Her hair was down, and knotty. She untangled it gently, twisting her fingers in the dark red tendrils.

She rounded the corner, plunging into a student lounge where she knew Gerald and Mari were. "Mom and Daaaad!" She joked gleefully, slinging herself over the side of Mari's armchair, kissing her head. "What is up." She asked, calming her crazy smile into one that was more acceptably enthusiastic.

It was only then, when Gerald made a pitiful attempt at replicating it on his face, like he had ripped the smile off of someone else and was trying to staple it to his own mouth, that she realized she had walked into terse air.

Mariella attempted a casual shrug. "Just life stuff."

"Life…stuff?" She looked back and forth between them, trying not to look like a deer in front of a very large truck. With knives taped to the front of it.

"It's nothing," Mari leaned forward, patting her leg. "How was your paper, did you just turn it in?"

Lila wanted to argue with them. She wanted to play Dr. Phil with whatever the hell she just wandered into. She knew that was probably not what they wanted her to do.

"It was good. At least, I hope it is. I guess we'll find out soon enough. Why are you guys upset?" It fell out of her mouth. She had at least meant to be subtle about it. Slip it into the conversation with grace and intelligence. She had really meant to, but bluntness was apparently just running through her blood.

Gerald snorted, cracking his face into a smile, and with it the ice in the room shattered. He grinned as he pushed up on his knees to stand. "We're not. Or at least I don't think so?"

Mari looked down to the floor, and then up at him. She shook her head in a small way. "No, we're not, baby." She patted Lila's knee.

"But I do have class now so," he slung his backpack over his shoulder. He grabbed Mari's chin as soon as he crossed to them, "I love you," he told her gently, staring into her eyes intensely. Lila suddenly felt like she didn't belong in that room. He kissed Mari gently. She pulled out of his while nodding. Lila knew she should have looked away due to politeness, but she supposed it was too late now. Gerald grabbed Lila's shoulder, kissed the top of her head. "Be good." He pet her hair as he passed by.

He turned back with a befuddled look on his face. "We gotta stop hanging out so much." He told the room honestly. "We're getting too fucking weird." Mariella laughed, flooding the room with warm caramel. Lila grinned and waved.

"You like it though," Lila reminded him with her cheeky smile.

"That's the scariest part of it." Gerald countered, before grinning one last time and turning back around.

Lila wiggled around in her seat so she could toss her legs over Mari's lap. She supposed she should have done a better job of shaving if she wanted to still wear skirts, but her hair was so light and so soft it barely seemed like an issue for her.

"What happened?" Lila gently coiled a piece of Mari's hair that was left out of her bun around her finger, so it made a perfect curl. She let it go gently.

"Ugh," Mari slumped back, running her fingernails, painted bright yellow, over Lila's knee cap. "I think I'm overreacting. Or underreacting. I don't know which yet."

"Hm?"

"He, uh," she rubbed at her nose, it was running ever so slightly. "He told me he applied to transfer?"

"WHAT!?" Lila all but stepped on Mari's knees. She had literally tried to stand in Mari's lap. It had gone terribly poorly.

"Ow."

"Oops," Lila smooshed herself back into her original seat, but heart still thumping. "WHERE?"

"Amaeus in the city."

"What the fuck do they have at Amaeus?!" Lila insisted, grabbing Mariella's arm intensely.

"Ow."

"Sorry."

"He can't afford to move out there with tuition," Mari explain as she soothingly ran her hands over Lila's ankles. "So he'd have to live at home, and commute."

Lila felt her face wrinkle up "that sucks."

"Yeah it does."

"But why?"

"Honestly," Mari scratched at her face, "it's not like. A terrible move, I guess. He just wants to do political science, and I support him like that. I tried to get him to do student government senate, whatever the fuck it is, this year. He's good at that stuff."

Lila smiled sadly. "Yea," she nodded before leaning her head against the back of the armchair and letting Mariella talk.

"But like," Mari groaned, letting her head thump back against the chair. "It's stupid." She stared up at Lila, from what Lila was sure was a horribly unflattering angle.

"It's never stupid." Lila reassured her, putting a soothing hand on her forehead.

"He didn't even ask me about it," Mari sat up straighter, shifting forward. Lila's hand fell off it's resting place on her forehead. "Like, this boy really gon' make a giant-ass decision and not even ask what I thought about it?! Like, I'm glad he told me now, but this bitch has probably been thinkin' about this for months. HELL, since we even GOT to college."

"He probably didn't want to upset you." Lila countered honestly.

"He failed." She slumped back again.

Lila didn't know what to say, she just quietly put her hand back in her lap. Mari slumped forward that time, putting her elbows on her knees, making a clean arch over Lila's legs in her lap. Mari put her chin in her palms.

"I know we're young, and I'm being stupid. But I just," She sighed, "It hurt so much to just, like, get some slap in the face that reminded me that I'm not the most important thing in his life." She paused. Lila wasn't sure if she was supposed to say something. "And I'm NOT saying I should be. Not at all. It's not like, we're, fucking married, or something. But when you're in love," she said it the way Lila took a shot of cough syrup, "and something reminds you that like, in their universe you're not like the," She looked down, "sun, I guess. I don't know. It shouldn't hurt. But it really, really does."

Lila had no idea what to do, so she sunk into the space in the chair Mari had created, wrapped her arms around the sad girl, and pulled her back against her.

* * *

"Okay, but logistically who could stab anything," Helga was sitting forward with an intense look on her face when Arnold walked into the room. He furrowed his brow, but let a little goofy smile sit on his face. He rubbed the back of her shoulder as he sat on the side of her. She paid him no attention, she had serious business written all over her face. "if they're just rollin' around-"

"Arnold!" Sid announced suddenly, as if Arnold hadn't entered his own bedroom forty five seconds ago. "Settle the debate!"

Arnold had a laugh sitting under his skin, but Helga looked up at him with fierce eyes that almost dared him to make a joke of it. He let his smile flat line, leaning forward and putting his elbows on his knees. "Okay, shoot."

"So, we named two random objects." Sid started to explain.

"Okay."

"And then we picked a scenario out of the Scenario Sock." He held up a tube sock, that must have been filled by small papers the way it was oddly misshapen. Arnold squinted at it, because it looked like the ones he had just folded yesterday.

"Did…did you guys take one of my socks?"

"Uh, CLEARLY not," Sid turned the sock around. It had 'NOT ARNOLD'S SOCK' written hastily in black sharpie on the side of it. "No more stupid questions." Arnold could feel the flat look he was giving Sid fall on his face. "ANYWAY, so the scenario was 'which would win in a fight.'" He looked at Helga for something akin to a search for approval. She gave him a short nod. "I picked knife." He said reasonably, Arnold frowned in consideration, nodding, because knife was kind of a hard one to beat.

"I picked ten thousand marbles all spread out on the floor." Helga added quickly.

"WHICH IS CHEATING THAT IS MANY OBJECTS!"

"IT WASN'T CHEATING UNTIL THE SCENARIO SOCK PICKED 'WIN IN A FIGHT' YA FUCKING GOOF!" She threw the pillow she was holding in her lap at Sid.

Arnold had so many things to comment on he floundered for words. The change up of the rules, the insinuation that the sock had picked the scenario, just 'ya fucking goof' in general.

"KNIVES STAB THINGS," Sid argued loudly, "YOU'D HAVE NOTHING TO PROTECT YOURSELF WITH."

"You know what knives REALLY stab?" Helga spit back, "THE IDIOT HOLDING IT WHO SLIPS ON TEN THOUSAND MARBLES."

"You," Sid jumped to his feet, jabbing his finger in her direction, "are unbelievable. I don't need this." He stormed towards the door, kicking Helga's jacket for no apparent reason even though it was somewhat out of his way.

"Are you actually that mad?" Arnold questioned incredulously.

"YES." Sid shouted back as he reached the door. "AND MY PHONE IS RINGING."

Arnold looked at Helga with an amused glance. "Ten thousand marbles?"

"Would you like me to describe them by color and pattern?" She replied blankly. He snorted, standing up to cross his room.

"I'm good," he tossed her one of the water bottles that he left the room for in the first place. "And you owe me a new pair of socks."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said, he heard her wrestling with the cap. He heard it click off as he wrestled through his drawers for some sweatpants. It was cold outside. "It clearly said it wasn't your sock." She said before taking a sip.

"Yes, well, I'm at a concert right now," Sid was wandering back into Arnold's room, making desperate eye contact with Helga. Helga started nodding furiously as she stood, gesturing around as she looked like …she was attempting to remember something. And then she opened her mouth and started making loud, horribly inaccurate, guitar noises with it.

"Yeah, I know, the music is so loud-" They looked at Arnold, Helga rolling her hands expectantly. He looked at them, bewildered, before joining her with a weird combination of drums and bass all at once. They made just about the worst band in the world.

"Yes, so I'll talk later, because the monkey jazzicist is here, I know, it's wild okay he's wearing a hat I gotta go bye-" Sid all but threw his phone across the room. "PHEW," he looked at them with a grin. "That was truly terrible."

"And that was?" Helga crossed back to the bed, throwing herself atop it before rolling over.

"Dale."

"Ah, yes. Dale. What did Dale want then?"

"Answers."

"Answers we do not yet have for said Dale?"

Sid glanced up at Arnold nervously. "Yes."

"I'm gonna go change into sweatpants," Arnold held up the aforementioned sweatpants because he was getting the vibe he wasn't wanted in that moment in his own bedroom which felt mildly absurd but-

"Dale is my cousin who I'm going to live with in Maine if I fail out of college." Sid said it so quickly it sounded like a tongue twister

"Maine?" Arnold asked, voice quirking up at the end of the word. "But you're not failing," he pointed at the computer. "You're doing this, Sid. You're almost there!" He told him with encouragement.

Sid exchanged a nervous glance with Arnold. "I mean, yea. Probably." He shrugged, going to stand against the wall, and sliding down it. "But what about next semester-"

"This won't happen next semester, Sid-"

"Maybe I'm not cut out for college, Arnold." Arnold had a hard time recalling a time, within the time he had known Sid those months, but also literally ever, that Sid had looked so bluntly serious. So apathetically realistic. "What if we're just prolonging the inevitable here?"

"You want to throw away all that work?" Arnold felt his shoulders tensing, his hands rolling themselves into fists, "For nothing?

"Being a mechanic isn't nothing." Sid was scraping the toes of his boots together, staring at the ground.

"I never said it was."

"And Maine's nice."

"Have you ever even been to Maine?"

"I can't stay here," He looked up to Arnold again, more plain honesty. His hands were outstretched, as if all the truth was just laid out in his palms and Arnold should just reach out and take it. "I can't live with my mom, if you could even call it that. It's more like I'm _her_ mom. Or Dad. Fuck, whatever."

He looked back down to the boots.

"I'd take Maine, Kentucky, Wyoming, anywhere over that." Sid added gruffly, angrily.

"Your Dad?" Arnold prompted gently.

"Jail." Sid replied curtly, and Arnold knew that was all there was to be had in that vein of thought.

"Sid," Arnold knelt down despite being quite the distance away from Sid across his room. His hands were shaking and he didn't know why. His throat was scratching and his feet were unsteady as he crouched. He grew uncomfortable in the cranked up heat of his bedroom, despite the inevitable draft of the exit that he had never bothered to fix in his ceiling. He could feel his sweater sticking to the back of his neck. "You did a lot of work… we can help you get through school. You can do this."

Sid wouldn't look up from the floor. Arnold made the worst mistake after that. He looked up at Helga.

Helga, who had been oddly silent for the entire exchange, had her eyes not on Sid, but on Arnold. Her eyes, brief moment of vulnerability breaking through, were crumpled with concern as she stared at him, tracing out the look on her face with her pupils.

She hadn't said anything at all, and she looked away as soon as their eyes met, but that fraction of a second where they did explained more of her thoughts than she probably could have. He felt what he thought she must have been thinking slam into his chest. Feeling like he almost got the wind knocked straight out of him.

 _"Helping people won't make them love you, Arnold,"_ he thought to himself. _"And it won't make them stay."_

"I can do it." Sid said finally, blissfully unaware of the moment that was just had, that Arnold was having a hard time breathing. "But do I want to?"

"You have to," Helga's crisp voice, the one that indicated she had been thinking for a while, added to their very rough orchestra, "decide that for yourself."

Arnold's legs were shaking too much. He fell back, into a sitting position, on his floor, and tried to catch his breath. He wiped his palms on his jeans, trying not to notice how clammy they really were, thinking he should really turn off the heat.

"You're right," Sid stood up. "And I will." He picked up his bag from the floor, shoving his phone into his pocket. "I'll catch you guys later." And without another word, he was out of Arnold's door.

Arnold would have said something, offered advice, said goodbye, if he weren't having to practice just keeping his breath in line.

"Having a moment?" Helga asked gently, slipping down to the floor to sit across from him, he heard the familiar creaks of it. He just scratched his thighs with his hands, smelling his own scent, nose twitching up with disgust.

"Yea," he said, keeping his eyes on his jeans, his shoes, crusted with mud and dirt in the shoe laces, the wood on his floor.

"It's okay." He heard the smile in her voice. "I just had one the other night. You're entitled to one."

His eyes stayed on the floor despite her close presence. He tapped his fingers on the wood, enjoying the small beat he could make. The beat he could control.

"I knew I shouldn't have let you get so involved in this."

"So," he exhaled, "you did know."

"To an extent. I didn't know just how bad it was, to be honest. But I knew of Dave, and the offer. Yes." She told him gently. "You can't control this, Arnold. You can't fix," she laughed, just a little bit, on the edges of her words, "Sid. And you can't help everyone." She told him finally, standing up to pace around his room. Give him some space, he was sure.

"I just genuinely believe," he sat forward where he was sitting, shifting to the edge of his feet, curling into himself protectively, "that it takes a village. Yes, to raise a child, but to do most in life." He shrugged, wiping his hands on his knees. "It's better to have help."

He looked up to her, and her plain green long sleeve shirt. Helga turned around, leaning herself back against the door. "But you're not a village, Arnold. You're one person."

* * *

She knew he had to have known that, logically, somewhere inside of him. The look on his face told her, partially, that he knew that somewhere too.

But mostly, his face told her, that he didn't really accept that. She sighed and walked back to him, sitting down again.

"I just," he cracked his knuckles. "Don't like it when I can't-"

"I know." She didn't want him to have to finish his sentence.

Arnold looked up at her, like he was deciding about something. She sat down more fully. There was something she was missing, something they hadn't gotten to the other night. She wanted him to tell her. She tried to make her face say it without having to say it herself.

"My, uh, parents. They are, uh," he rubbed his hand on his face nervously. "They're flying away? Next Tuesday?"

"…oh?" She asked, trying to keep a light interest now that the mood was lightening even slightly.

"And I think I want to go with them?"

"…okay…" she replied slowly.

"And go to this conference they're going to…"

She didn't respond, just watched him not look at her but seem very interested in whatever was under his fingernails. There were pulls in his sweater, knots in the ends of his hair.

"And maybe think about taking this job that might be on the table for next fall."

"Oh?" She asked, pulling her legs into herself.

"In Mexico?"

"Oh." She grabbed her ankles, coiling in on herself protectively. Her breath caught in the back of her throat. "How long?" She inquired quietly.

"Just till Christmas Eve." He replied quickly, finally glancing up. His focus flicked from eye to eye, trying to gauge her reaction. She'd like to gauge her own reaction, actually. She didn't know what to feel, except exactly what she could physically feel, her heart pounding, her skin crawling.

"I meant Mexico." She clarified.

"September to December."

"Two months," She clicked her tongue.

"…yeah."

"It's a," she swallowed, "good opportunity?"

"Really good one." He nodded as they stared at each other.

"I might be going away for college anyway." She added reasonably.

"…true." He nodded to himself.

And she realized they were in much deeper than she thought they were, really, the fact they were even slowly bumbling their way into even having this conversation. They had no reason to, really, they weren't even dating, technically. She felt like she was up to her neck in freezing water, like thrashing about wouldn't change a goddamn thing.

"I might not though." She added again.

"Also true." He nodded again.

She was thrashing anyway. Thrashing against the frigid current, trying to keep her face afloat. She felt like she was more up to her ears now than anything.

She bit her lip, more like gnawed on it, and looked up at him again. Her heart crackled, like pop rocks, in her chest and she already knew, of course, that Arnold was not a fucking mind-reader and that when she wanted things she was going to have to goddamn say them.

"I don't want you to-" She realized how selfish she sounded. She realized how stupid she sounded, how young. She thought back to her Mom and Dad, perfect strangers with cups of coffee at her kitchen table, married so young….so stupid. She shut her mouth.

"If I don't," Arnold swallowed, "don't go on this flight next week, well…"

She looked up at his eyes.

"That would be the first time my parents flew anywhere on a plane without me on it."

"You need to go," She concluded quickly reached out for his knee. "Next week, at least." It was the first time they had touched since the entire mess had been started. "And Mexico," she breathed heavily, "Mexico is later."

"And so is college," he grabbed her hand, rolling it over to interlock it with his own.

"Maybe," she snorted in a way that was so annoyed it actually hurt her nostril. "If I can't even fucking afford to apply…"

"What?"

She rolled her eyes with annoyance, tugging her hand away. "It's like forty to seventy dollars an application, as if everyone just has that lying around."

"Let me pay for it."

"Arnold, no." She told him curtly, rewrapping herself back into her protective stance. "I won't." She edged away from him, back into herself. Back to where she was safe. Where everything was wrong, but she was herself and she was safe.

"Helga, you know I can afford it."

"That's not the fucking point."

"Let me help you."

"I don't need your fucking hando-"

"Please," the way he said it, the way it dropped at the end. It was the most intentional accident and although she was enjoying tracing the wood patterns with her eyes she looked up at him before she could yell at herself not to. "Don't leave me again." He spoke so earnestly, so strongly and yet so ardently Arnold in his own voice, that she stared at him for a few moments after he said it.

"You were the one who left." She wished it hadn't sounded so defensive. She was counting the seconds until he blinked as they looked at each other. He took a breath and then exhaled before even talking.

"No," he said finitely and for a moment she could almost see the boy who waited with callused thumbs by the mail bin that never had anything arrive with him name on it in her handwriting. But he hardened, and the boy was gone. His eyes squinted, just a hair's width. But Helga noticed. She always did. Arnold was aware, now, of himself, of the treatment he deserved. He said with a resolute tone "I wasn't."

She blinked, feeling like she was knocked back into her own skin. She felt so deep into herself that she could barely brush the surface with her finger tips. Barely reach him. Sometimes barely was enough.

"You're the one leaving now." She more breathed it than said it, feeling herself settle back into the present. Her heart rate picked back up. It might have been the first true, honest emotion she had been able to express to him in…who knew how long.

His eyebrows furrowed. He blinked, finally. He grabbed her knee. "I'm not." He said. And she knew the plane tickets were practically printed out, he knew he was physically getting on a flight in a week, and perhaps again in the fall. But she also knew, from the subtle pressure of his thumb on her knee, from the hard line just forming at the corner of his mouth, to the wrinkles in his shirt, that he had no intention of leaving her. He was with her, in the spirit, soul kind of way, thousands of miles apart, or not.

And she believed him.

After a deep breath, and no words at all, it was impossible to tell who hugged who first


	25. Chapter 25

"Ugh," Sid hit the ignore call button on his phone yet again. "Goddamnit, Dave. I'll call when I call."

They were sitting spread out across a few tables in a coffee shop, because Lila had been talking about some sort of white salted mocha thing so much that Helga was ready to make one for her herself.

Cass 1:21  
So Miriam just appeared?

Helga 1:22  
Out of the blu

Cass 1:23  
How are things with dad?

Helga 1:23  
Honestly  
Weird  
But good  
I think

"Who is Dave?" Gerald asked with amusement, hands wrapped around an empty cup. They were getting major stink eye from the gal behind the counter, which Helga figured they probably deserved but she didn't so much care about it.

"My cousin," Sid slumped down, putting his chin in his hand. "He wants to know if I want to live with him?"

"You're moving out of the dorms?" Lila questioned, shifting forward and tilting her head to the side. Helga sort of wanted to smack her own face into the table. Sid was many good things…tactful was not one of them. This was just not the time. She glanced up to Arnold, who had his arm up and over her, on the booth behind them. He pressed his mouth into a thin line as they made eye contact, his hands dropped down and rubbed soothingly on her shoulder. She shuffled into him a little further.

"I mean, I might have to."

"You won't, though," Gerald was squinting at him, perhaps catching on to that there was something else going on there. Helga looked at Mari who was not looking at Sid, but rather at her. Without a change at all in expression, Mari's eyes went from Helga's face, to Arnold's, back to Helga's. She raised a slow eyebrow.

Helga didn't know what to do. She wanted to be defensive or say something snarky, but Arnold's fingernails were tracing out a small star pattern on her shoulder, and so she smiled.

She just smiled at Mari.

Mari's eyebrows shot into her hairline, and then, after a moment, she smiled back.

Cass 1:26  
And things with arnold?

Helga 1:26  
Really good.

Helga realized, when she looked up and saw that Gerald had a little extra shine on his face than usual and Lila's face was turning red, that Sid must have said something she should have paid attention to.

"College is for everyone," Gerald insisted.

"That seems a little short sighted, Gerald." Sid replied coolly, sliding back in his chair.

"So you just gonna get up and run away to Maine?" Gerald replied, "and you weren't even gonna tell us about it?"

"It's not for sure." Sid scratched the back of his neck. "But if I don't go to school, well then…"

"Why?!" Gerald's voice was raising a little higher than what was acceptable. Mari put a hand on his leg, looking at Sid with this sad look on her face. Helga didn't want to be watching this at all. "Why you gotta move 8 hours away if you don't go to college?! How is that the ONLY two options?"

Lila stared at Sid and said nothing.

"Because I don't have a place to LIVE, Gerald." Sid replied haughtily, fingers that were nervously running through his hair now tangled up in it.

"You know what," Gerald pushed his chair back from the table. "I'm sorry, I forgot, I wanted to meet up with my Professor at his office hours today, so Imma do that real quick."

"Geral-" Mari started, reaching out for him.

"Do you want a ride?" He asked her quickly, grabbing her hand.

She slowly shook her head.

He kissed her palm. "I love you." He dropped her hand, waving his hand to the table, "later guys."

Helga knew he didn't slam the door because the door didn't work that way, but she thought the bells on the door rang a little more loudly than they usually did. The girl behind the counter stared at him leaving, and then looked at their table like she didn't know what they fucked up but they fucked something up.

They sat in silence for a few moments. Helga reached up and tangled her hand with Arnold's, looking up to catch his eye. She smiled, softly, in a "well, that happened," way. He returned it, pulling her in to kiss her temple.

"I honestly," Mari tapped her hands on the table, fingernails clacking against the wood. "Don't know why he's so upset, considering his ass might switch schools too."

"He is?" Lila whipped her head to look at Mari so fast her dark hair smacked the poor girl in the face.

As if he didn't hear Lila, Sid replied "it's probably because Arnold might move, too."

"What!?" Lila looked back and forth between Arnold and Sid. Her mouth open, face blushing, eyes wide, looking like a god-awful mix of distraught and devastated. Helga groaned, and smacked her face into the table.

* * *

Sid, had in fact, done it. Or he would, so long as he didn't fail the test he was currently studying for, the last one of finals week, which was tomorrow, Thursday. He bit his lip, hair swept off his neck in this ridiculous clip he had taken from Lila. Cassidy was on speaker phone.

"Sid," She sighed, "leaving sucks. I mean, it's really, really hard." Sid forgot, almost, up until that moment, that Cassidy went further than 8 hours away. "But if it's the best thing for you, then it's the best thing for you."

"Right." He replied solemnly, making a small annotation.

"But is it?"

"What do you mean?"

"Are you just," she sighed again. Cass had an excellent sigh, one of the best in the business. Could be a voice actor, Sid thought, of a children's cartoon. Maybe one about squirrels, or something. Squirrels that have an anarchy for some reason. "Running away from this?"

"I mean-"

"Because quitting," she replied before he could get a word in. A new habit of hers, demanding to finish her thought with out interruption. "Is a LOT easier than pushing forward."

"My major isn't right." Sid replied quickly, sitting back from his notes, stretching his hands above his head. "That I know for sure of."

"So, try a new major!"

"I hate this, though, Cass." He stood up, relishing in his feet touching the floor, rolling each ankle, standing on his tippy toes. "I hate studying. I hate sitting in a classroom. I just want to do something with my hands." He stretched the aforementioned hands. "I don't think I could learn anything in a classroom and, like, have fun. And I know it's not necessarily about fun, but- and I don't want to move to Maine, but like, what options do I have? Classroom or Maine?"

"Right," Cass replied gently. "And maybe Maine's just…" she sounded like she really didn't want to say whatever came next "best for you. Or, rather, not being stuck in a classroom."

"You're right." Sid sat down, blanching at the rest of his, or rather that Asian kid Gerald traded weed for his notes, notes and how much he had to get through. "Maybe it is."

* * *

Lila was sitting on her bed, staring at a wall. Which might sound horribly sad to some people, but not necessarily to Lila. She was staring at a wall with purpose, at least. Helga was typing on her laptop next to her.

"Is grievance a word?"

"Yes," Lila replied without glancing at her.

She had all these pictures up, framed by lights. They looked so nice. The people in them were so happy, arms wrapped around each other and laughing.

"Ugh, they're all starting to blend together." Helga set the computer beside them, Lila felt the dip in the comforter. "I need a break," she cracked her knuckles. "Goddamn personal essays, all have different questions. As if it weren't enough to get _personal_ ," she sneered the word, "one time." She cracked her back audibly. "Who," she was directing her voice at Mari on the floor, because her voice wasn't any nearer to Lila when she spoke "are you texting so furiously?"

The pictures were organized. They were laid out in perfect rows and columns.

"Rhonda," she replied with a roll of her eyes, "she's bugging out about this boy. He ain't worth her time…but homegirl needs to get laid and chill the hell out."

Helga leaned forward with interest "and naturally she thinks if she hooks up with this guy they'll be," she made this weird noise with her nose "practically engaged, right?"

Lila heard Mari's cellphone thud on to the floor. "You know it, that's gonna be super fun to deal with over Christmas break."

Helga laughed.

Lila licked her lips, and broke her stare at the wall to look at her desk.

It was covered in stuff. Helga's empty cans of soda and Mari's hoodie that was actually Gerald's but wasn't anymore. The hair-clip in it's package she bought to replace the one Sid stole. Her bookbag spilling out, books toppling over it. Nothing was organized. There were no columns, no rows.

"Where is that one goin'?" Mari asked, pointing to the laptop as Lila looked back to them.

"U.C. Berkeley." She replied, wiping her hand above her eyebrow. Mari whistled. "I know," Helga groaned, nervously picking up the computer again "but with my grades and sat scores…"

"Baby," Mari countered, "you can get in anywhere you want."

"I think so too…" Helga chewed on her lip, "it's more about…"

"Financial aid." They said together, Mari nodding knowingly.

Lila wanted to point out that out of state schools were more expensive and more often than not offered less aid. She looked back at the wall, at her face, and her grin with arms wrapped around a girl who she really wasn't that great of friends with but they took the picture for Instagram anyway. The group of people she met in her hall that night and they all took a picture before a party. The girls she sat at lunch with and ignored the group chat texts later in the night. The acquaintances…the people she called friends before she really knew what friends were.

"How do I kindly tell Rhonda that I will drive up there and kill her myself if she gets bangs?" Mari clicked her tongue, Helga laughed again.

"You don't. Tell her that I will," she preened, leaning over the computer with a lecherous grin.

Mari pointed at her "good point."

And Lila wondered, for only a moment, with a quick glance back to the pictures and the lights, if she were happier the way it was before.

They, the names she couldn't remember, the people she tagged on Instagram, the couple day snapchat streaks, had never hurt her like this, ever.

* * *

"Packing is harder than I remembered it being," Arnold commented to Gerald who was sitting on the floor of his bedroom. He had a small suitcase and many things he planned to put into it.

"It's gonna be hot out there," Gerald warned him.

"Oh?" Arnold mocked surprise, "should I pack my lucky sweatshirt, then?" He teased him, grinning at his best friend, remembering how he trekked through the jungle in a, very stylish and completely unpractical sweatshirt.

"Man, shut up." Gerald threw the pillow by his side at Arnold, who caught it with a good-natured smirk. Gerald turned back to his phone. Arnold turned back to his suitcase. "Helga's on her way, do you need her to pick up anything?"

"Yea, actually." Arnold refolded a shirt. "Could you ask her to pick up some milk?"

"Roger."

"Hey," Arnold realized his window of opportunity was narrowing now that Helga was on her way. "Do you want to talk about the coffee shop?" He sat back on his bed, crossing his arms.

Gerald glanced up, staring off, looking like he was considering the offer. "Not particularly," he said finally, "no."

Arnold snorted, "fair enough."

Arnold went back to his suitcase, and why was his toiletry bag so big? What did he have in there, the Declaration of Independence? He tried to shove it into a corner, when Gerald spoke again.

"I mean I get your opportunity at all, and I get why Sid doesn't want to go to school…why can't he live at home, though? Stay here and get some kinda' job….it just sucks, man. I'm gonna live at home, most likely, if I transfer. I'll have to."

Arnold smiled to himself while Gerald couldn't see him, before turning around and sitting back on the bed with a serious look on his face.

"Because he can't." Arnold replied gently. "And it does suck."

"Damn straight," Gerald nodded to himself. Arnold thought that maybe all Gerald wanted was to feel validated in how he was feeling. "I just," Gerald shrugged, "like the way things are now, I guess. They seem, good? You know?"

Arnold nodded. "They do."

Helga banged the door open with a thud. "Arnold, I may or may not have killed one of your weird-ass pets, and don't expect me to feel bad about it." She said with a steely gaze, tossing Gerald the gallon of milk.

"Why," he caught it carefully, "are you handing me this milk?"

"You asked for it?!" She turned to him with an incredulous look.

"For Arnold!" He replied insistently, "what do you think my ass was doing with an ENTIRE gallon of 2%?!"

"I don't know what you do in your free time," she snarked back, nodding at Arnold before collapsing on his bed.

"Bitch, yes you do! We spend literally all of our free time together."

* * *

Groupchat: Gerald 4:12  
Party at arnolds for his going away  
Be there or  
Idk  
Literally we'll probably come find you wherever you are  
That's the threat I guess

Groupchat: Helga 4:16  
He's only gonna be gone for a week

Groupchat: Sid 4:17  
A week is long enough

Groupchat: Lila 4:19  
Shut up, sid.

Groupchat: Mari 4:23  
Yea we do need a party  
All y'all need to chill tf out

Groupchat: sid 4:25  
If I bring this gross salsa that's been in my desk drawer all semester will you guys eat it

Groupchat: Helga 4:30  
I want to tell you that's gross and to fuck off  
But probably, yes

Groupchat: Gerald 4:32  
I'll pick y'all up in a half hour, be outside Davi dorm

Groupchat: Helga 4:33  
I'm already at naldos lol

Groupchat: Mari 4:34  
We are all in shock  
We might take a few minutes to adjust to this news

Groupchat: Arnold 4:49  
Haha  
Were you guys just gonna throw a party at mine without even asking?

Groupchat: Helga 4:51  
Shut up, arnold

Groupchat: Gerald 4:52  
Actin' like its ur house when u know damn well we all basically fuckin' live there  
Beep beep  
Move over bitch  
My house now.

* * *

Gerald's shoulders tensed when he had this strange thought, racking through his brain as Helga ate a chip off the floor and stared at them all and said "what? Like you're saints." And then Sid said "sometimes I think chips taste better off the floor" and then he couldn't help it, he was just fucking wheezing.

His muscles pulled together with worry as he stared around at the people in Arnold's room, that he might never feel this at ease with another group of people ever again and they were all going to ruin it.

"Y'all must be outta' your minds if you think I'm gonna eat anything off a floor purposefully," Mari, for the first time in a little while, had her giant grin stretched out on her face, like a mad-women. Teeth so white, eyes so bright. So beautiful. "Literally bat-shit crazy."

"Arnold," Sid grabbed Arnold's cheeks, so seriously, with such intent. He stared him down. "Do you love me?"

"Sid, what?"

That just made Sid tighten his grip. "Do you LOVE me?"

"I mean, sure- Sid,"

"Then you will eat that chip," he kept his eye contact intensely, "off of the ground."

Gerald couldn't help it then, even with the tightening in his chest and the worry in his muscles, he started fucking rolling with laughter when Sid, keeping his eyes on Arnold, and never blinking, picked up a chip, and stared him down as he dropped it on the floor.

* * *

Lila, as she figured out already but for some reason had to keep relearning, was very bad at staying angry.

Staying angry at anyone, yes, but especially staying mad at Sid when he was laughing behind her while she was laying, stretched out on the floor, and his fingers were just barely tapping on her shoulder, poking at the freckles absentmindedly as he reacted to Gerald's, admittedly very funny, story.

She was trying to be angry at herself for not being angry at him but she couldn't stop laughing and that just made her MADDER.

Ugh.

* * *

Arnold was getting mildly distracted, staring at Helga tangled up in his bed sheets, her hair piled on her head, laugh on her mouth as she tried to describe accurately the look on Sid's face when he realized shit talked his senior year algebra teacher right to her face.

"And then," she had wrinkled her nose up, creating these beautiful little valleys in her face, "before she's even out of EAR-SHOT, he just," she snorted, "fuckin' said 'well, at least the final is multiple choice."

Arnold knew he couldn't do much to act on how he was feeling at the moment, room full of his friends despite the face Helga's hands were enticingly gripping the blanket and her skin looked so soft, even in the glow of his overhead lighting.

His stomach, not so much squirming with butterflies, but more like pitter-pattering with his heart beat like a soft rain, basically guided him to her. He knew she didn't so much like PDA. He thought to himself that she'd have to stop being so goddamn beautiful, then, as he sat behind her, smiling fondly at the back of her head, even.

She turned around, flopping her back on to the bed, grinning at him. He pushed the stray hairs, lost in the disarray of her hairstyle, out of her eyes. She rolled her eyes at him. He wanted to kiss her so badly. Amongst other things.

His face must have said something along those lines to her, because she rolled her eyes again as she rolled her body so she was laying on her side again, facing away from him.

He grinned at her, now that she wasn't looking at his face anymore, at the way her strap was just falling off her shoulder, little tiny freckles just barely dotting her skin. He thought to himself that he really ought to check with her to make sure they were actually dating before he got his heart literally ripped out of his chest.

Because it had hurt last time.

It would kill him this time.

* * *

Helga woke up vaguely aware that she was sticky. And sweaty. She winced, sitting up, before realizing that her arms weren't coming up. After attempting to flail in a brief moment of panic, she looked down to see her arm, and one of Arnold's, was taped to her abdomen.

"What the fuck!?" She didn't mean to shout, but she had, panic setting for a quick moment as she looked around and realized she was still in Arnold's room.

Her leg was taped to the bed post. Gerald and Mari, the latter lying on the former, were taped to the floor. Sid to Arnold's other side.

Sid did the same flailing motion she did before blinking and registering what was going on. Mari tried to push up from Gerald. Gerald grinned, and just tugged her closer.

"Uh," Arnold was awake, his hands were tapping on her stomach. "Hello."

"What in fucking hell-" Sid was tangled up in his own duct tape. Helga grinned.

"Oh," Lila, sitting on the couch by herself, looked up at them with a smile, holding whatever was on her lap with one hand. "Hello." She swallowed whatever she was eating "I fixed it, now no one can leave Hillwood!" She joked, looking pleased with herself, with her hair falling in these strange patterns, as if she slept on it oddly. "You guys sleep really late. And I found duct tape in the kitchen." She shoved another forkful of whatever was on the plate into her mouth, "eggs, anybody?" She said through the mouthful, holding up her plate.

Helga might have taken the time to criticize this if the innocent look on Lila's face weren't so damn funny, as if everyone tied their friends together with duct tape on Sunday evenings. She shook her head, saying "you're something else, Sawyer," as she snickered to herself.

"Please help," Sid sounded forlorn, now out of Helga's site completely, fallen off the bed. "I might die here."

Gerald tsked, shaking his head the best he could on the floor, not looking at all particularly bothered by being taped to Mari. "Poor Sid, may he rest in peace."

"Good Man, taken out by duct tape…" Arnold added, sighing as he played along.

"Duct tape," Helga added sadly, "and his own will for freedom." She laughed as she ripped the duct tape off her shirt, freeing herself and Arnold. Arnold stretched high, winking at her quickly. She pushed him, because it annoyed her and her skin was heating up. He laughed. Mari also freed her self, standing up and offering a hand down to Gerald.

"Arnold, my man, if we're spending all this time here we gotta get more beds- I'm getting too old for this, man." His back cracked audibly as he stretched while walking over to Lila. He took her fork and scooped a forkful of eggs from her plate. "Not bad," he nodded approvingly. She grinned.

"Let's make more," Arnold stretched again, offering his hand to Helga off the bed. "I'm starving." They stood, making for the door.

"GUYS," Sid called desperately "I WAS NOT JOKING ABOUT THE DYING HERE THING."

"Oh, whoops-" Gerald turned around quickly, "sorry about that, buddy."

* * *

"Yeah," everyone else but him and Sid had gone, well, if not home, then somewhere else, by the time it was mid afternoon. Gerald was sitting at Arnold's table, drinking really gross coffee, because that's what they did. Arnold was pacing back and forth, talking to his mom on the phone "yeah, no. During the one- the yea, the conference that. What? I can't hear you." Gerald was trying to figure out what he was going to do that night. No school? Everyone was supposed to be out of the dorms by Wednesday. He guessed it was time to go home and spend time with the family…and maybe get yelled at, again, for this transferring business. "Sorry, what? No, it shouldn't take me more than the day. Yeah, it's a three hour trip. Mom. Mom, it's fine. It'll be fine." Gerald wondered if Sid had fallen back asleep upstairs. Gerald was gonna drive into the city to drop Arnold at the airport then drive both him and Sid back to HU. The girls had gone out to do something or other without them. "Oh, yeah. You're right. Is Eduardo coming? Is he bringing his car?" Gerald thought about going to get Arnold's stuff, before realizing, again, Arnold was quite nearly his height and damn close to being as muscular as he was. Arnold could carry his own shit. "It's, yeah. Mom, I wouldn't ask to go if I didn't think it was really, really important." He smiled fondly, "I know you know that. Okay, yes, I'll see you soon. I love you too, yes, bye."

"Okay," Arnold looked down at him. "Just need the suitcase, and" he looked around "Sid, apparently. Where'd he go?"

"Probably asleep on your bed if I had a guess." Gerald shrugged.

* * *

Sid was sitting on Arnold's bed, staring at his phone. Arnold looked at him, deciding how to proceed, looking from him to his made bed, to the green wall behind it that he still never quite finished painting. Sid was chewing on the tip of his thumb. Arnold scratched at his jaw, worrying himself, just standing in the hallway.

Arnold decided appeared in his door way and act like he hadn't seen anything. "Hey, we're ready to g- what's up?" Arnold was not a brilliant actor, but Sid wasn't amazingly perceptive.

"Need ta' call Dale." Sid replied without looking up.

"Oh."

"But it's fine," Sid, barely acknowledging his behavior, bounced back to his feet, "I'll do it later."

"Do you want to talk about this?"

"No."

"Should we talk about this?"

Sid sighed, sliding his phone into his pocket. "I think I might just call him and tell him I'm coming on Wednesday and that's it. And I'll decide on, like, other stuff. I don't know," Arnold decided he hated the look that was always on Sid's face now. This weird, anguished mix of helplessness and exhaustion. It was terrible and he missed the Sid who talked too loud and carelessly.

"Wednesday?" Arnold blanched, gripping his suitcase.

"Well, I have to be out of the dorms on Wednesday so the R.A. can go home. And that's also the deadline for school...but I'll decide that later." Sid shrugged, picking up his backpack from the floor. "As far as the rest of this week goes," he shrugged," "I have to sleep somewhere." He headed to the door.

For the first time in a while, Arnold spoke quickly, irrationally, without thinking about it at all. Which was strange, because when he said it it felt like such a "duh" moment. Like he had been thinking it for weeks and not even realized it.

"Stay here." Arnold told him firmly.

"What?" Sid turned around, truly surprised look on his features.

"Here," Arnold fumbled in his pocket for his keys. "Stay here this Christmas," he tossed them to Sid. "Don't drive my car, please." Sid wasn't making any sort of facial expression, staring down at the keys in his hands. Arnold sighed, jokingly lightly, "at least don't without Gerald," he joked.

Sid was looking at him now, with that same indescribable look. He didn't know what face to be making, so he just smiled at him awkwardly.

Sid gripped the keys so tightly with one hand, and before Arnold knew it, Sid was coming towards him with a full-out sprint, tackling him straight behind himself, crashing into the bed.

He hugged him fiercely, as if all male friends just kind of straight up cuddled in bed.

"Uh," he pat the back of Sid's head, "you're welcome, Sid."

Sid's arms just tightened around him.

"Hey, y'all we got about t-minus five minutes before we get into the Late As Hell territory…" Gerald's words stopped as he stared in from the door. "Uh. Did I miss something, here?"

* * *

 _a/n lol idk what to say but ive been getting really nice comments lately and from the bottom of my heart THANK YOU if you've left them... i love love love knowing what oyu noticed or liked or what made u sad or even annoyed u. constructive criticism always welcomed, anything welcomed. love y'all!_


	26. Chapter 26

It was Tuesday, Helga was pretty sure, when she sits up. She itched at her arm, staring around at her bedroom. Her chest ached, and it jults her out of her mind and into her skin. She became acutely aware of the tag of her t-shirt, several sizes too large, itching at the back of her neck. Her hair was tangled where she had put it up in a ponytail, her scalp itches.

Her heart sinks when she stares around. Trash, everywhere. Clothes, those she had worn, those she hadn't, everywhere. She must have gotten them out at some point in time. She was probably disassociating, and hadn't really realized she had tossed everything on the floor.

She was, however, just a little grateful, that her heart was pounding. That she was there, even. That she was able to sit up and recognize the moment.

And then that inch of gratitude faded because she now had to clean her entire room.

Or, she thought, staring out her window, at the dead city trees and the trash piled outside of her neighbors house. She became aware her nose was running, her heart pounding for no reason in particular.

Or, she thought, she could go back to sleep.

* * *

She didn't really make a decision about it, she just crashed into her pillow and fell back into the dark.

"Hey Sid,"

"Yea, buddy-" Sid was eating a granola bar upside down on Arnold's bed when he called. He realized he couldn't do all three things at the same time- talk, granola, hang, and so he ungracefully let the bar slip to the floor. He stared at it sadly, as it now seemed like the completely illogical solution. He hoisted himself up on to the bed, sharing a look with Gerald, who was sitting on the bed, leaned against the headboard, like some kind of normal person. "What's up?

"Need you to do me a favor," Arnold sounded like he was on some sort of busy street. Sid frowned in consideration, raising his eyebrows. Gerald was giving him a curious look over the top of his computer.

"I mean, of course." Sid shrugged, "whatever you need."

"I go to visit my Grandpa on Wednesdays," Arnold said, as what sounded like an enormous flock of ostritches passed by. Or a garbage truck, could have been that.

"O, okay?"

"It's Wednesday."

"Nah, dude. It's Tuesday."

"...it is Wednesday, Sid."

"Sid," Gerald said, not looking up from his computer, "it's Wednesday."

"So," Sid said into the phone, "it MIGHT be Wednesday."

"No-" Arnold started as Gerald looked up incredulously and said

"What?"

"It is definitely Wednesday."

"Are you debating the day of week, man?"

"Okay, so we'll come back to this Wednesday talk, man. What's up?"

"Sid, I-" Arnold sounded hilariously exasperated even over the phone. "You know, what, nevermind. I just need you to go visit Grandpa."

"Are you sure you want _me_ to?" Sid nervously fiddled with his socks. They were covered in holes. Gerald spared him a glance, and looked down at his hands on his socks. His eyes went back to his face with a look Sid could only describe as disappointment. He looked back to his computer. "I don't know him that well. We've met, like, twice. Sounds like more of a Gerald thing," Sid said, testing the stretching capacity of the ankle of his sock.

When he looked back up, Gerald was giving him a flat look.

"No, no, man." Arnold countered, and now the background sounded like he was at a convention for clowns, all kinds of horns obnoxiously sounding. "I think it would be good for both of you."

"I mean," Sid shifted around to face the other way on the bed. He shrugged at Gerald's curious glance again. "If you say so, man" and he flopped down on the bed.

* * *

A jingle pierced her ear drum and she bolted upright. Helga felt around, a little bit startled, for her cell phone. Helga warily picked up her phone. "Uh," she didn't mean that to be her greeting, but it was already said "hello?"

"I AM SO BOOOORED," Lila whined upon pick up.

"Hello to you too," Helga smirked, sitting back on her bed. "I'd invite you here," she stared around at her trashed bedroom, "but,"

"Yeah, yeah," Lila barely let her finish. "I know. Ditto, basically, with my place. It's. Not the best space," she sighed audibly. Helga grinned again, staring up at the flickering light in her ceiling. "Why hasn't Sz manned-up and invited us over?"

"Probably because it's not his house," Helga felt the laugh in her chest before it reached her throat, "and should we be using such _gender restrictive_ language, Lila Sawyer?" She teased gently, swinging her legs over her bed. She felt the the crunch under her toes of boxes of freezer meals. Her nose wrinkled involuntarily.

"When has that stopped us before?" Lila replied quickly, and Helga could hear the giggle on her tongue, "and if you tell me an equally funny way to say 'man up' consider your suggestion gleefully accepted."

"Hm," Helga hummed, staring at her floor. Her toe-nails were long. She winced. She ran a hand through her greasy hair, working through the knots carefully with her finger nails. "Man-up… get real? Nah. Fortify?"

" _Fortify_?"

"Yeah, like: "hey man, get your shit together: _FORTIFY_."

Lila, quite clearly, collapsed into giggles on the other side. Helga felt her heart lift up, and the corners of her mouth, as well. She crossed her legs on her comforter. She knew if she asked Lila to come help her clean up she would. Helga just doubted she, herself, was ready for that yet. She scratched at the back of her knee.

"We gotta," Lila wheezed, "find something to do."

"Get Sz to invite Gz over, because quite clearly once he's there he'll invite us over to Az's." Helga suggested, wiggling back on the comforter.

Lila clicked her tongue. "I hate to say it but that would probably work."

"I'd, uh," she became aware she could smell herself. "I'd need a few minutes, to like," she ran a thumb along her cheek, noticing she could feel the grease on it, "need a little while to get ready."

"Helga…" she could hear Lila's frown through the phone, "are you taking care of yourself?"

"I, yeah, Lila, I can't- look, look nice for my fri-"

"Please," an honest little break in her voice, "don't lie to me."

"I'm fine," she didn't meant to sound so terse. She didn't know how to handle it when someone showed interest in her. Which sounded almost as pathetic as it actually was. "Its. Everything is okay, ladybird." She tried to force her muscles to relax. As it turns out, muscles don't exactly work out that way.

"Great, then I'll pick you up in 2 hours."

"To do what?"

"We'll have to see, I suppose!"

"Ugh, Lil- I was gonna,"

"Gonna what?"

Helga had no response.

"That's what I thought. Be there in two hours. FORTIFY, Tic-Tac." And then, a sure fire sign Lila had been hanging out with her and Sid too damn much, she hung up without another word.

Helga touched her hair, groaned, and fell back on her bed again.

* * *

"Hello, son-" Phil didn't open his eyes to greet him, sitting by the enormous window that overlooked the frosted lake of the home. Sid did a double take behind him, as if there were someone else that followed him there that Phil was addressing.

"Uh," Sid rubbed nervous, sweaty palms, on his jeans. "Hi."

"Sit, boy, you're making me nervous just standing there."

Sid had no idea what it was about nursing homes he found entirely unsettling. He wondered where everyone's families were, why the place seemed so empty despite being nearly at full capacity. He sat down, rubbing his hands dry again, shifting a hand back through his hair, catching on a few tangles in the thick, dark, curls. He thought about leaving, when he could appropriately do that, text Gerald to come pick him up.

"How are you, today?" Sid asked quietly, folding his hands as he set his elbows on his knees, leaning forward. His foot was tapping anxiously.

"I'm old as shit." Phil opened one eye to look at Sid, mischievous grin just hinted on his lips, "that's how I am every day."

Sid couldn't help it, he let out a nervous, surprised, laugh.

* * *

Helga hadn't even started after twenty minutes. She sat on her toilet seat, one foot tucked up under herself, and stared at the shower. She couldn't tell you what she was thinking about. Just that she was cold, and tired, and didn't want to get in. That was about all she had.

Untangling the mess in her hair took way longer than she expected it to. And a lot more conditioner. She cursed as she put it back on the shelf, entirely aware she'd have to scrounge up the money to buy a new bottle.

When she stepped out of the shower she realized she had exactly 10 minutes before Lila said she'd get there, and the girl was always on time. Her hair hung in her face. She felt like a drowned version of Big Bird, as she stared at herself in the mirror. Her hair felt greasy from all the conditioner. Her legs brushed together, and she realized with a groan she hadn't even thought of shaving them.

She must have been standing there for ten minutes, staring, because her phone went off with a ping, and there was a bang on her door.

She groaned, threw on the giant tshirt and shorts she left on the counter, and ran down the stairs.

"Hi," Helga opened the door, knowing full well of her wet muppet look.

Lila's eyebrows shot into her hairline, a small, graceful smile quirked her lips, "...hi?" Before Helga could say anything about not being ready, Lila let herself in, certainly not pushing Helga, but moreso waltzing around her. She shucked her slushy boots off by the door, unbuttoning her coat. "Well, shut the door, Tac," she let her coat slide off her shoulders, "you're going to catch a chill."

"I'm sorry, Lil-" Helga did what she asked, suddenly very aware of the wet spots her hair created on her shirt, the chill the outside added to that. "I lost track of time."

Lila was giving her a suspicious glance. "That's quite alright, I can wait." She told her politely, grabbing her hand and tapping it. "In your room, then?"

"No!" Helga grabbed her wrist quickly. "No, no." She smiled broadly, it felt foreign on her face. Lila had all these little damp spots in her hair. Helga wasn't aware they had precipitation at all that day. Her hair looked like it was once curly, maybe when she left, and now it was just sort of tangled. But her make-up was fresh, and her nose was pink. "It's best if you just wait here, I'll be ready in a few."

Lila smiled, "if you're sure." Helga winced at there being nowhere marvelous to sit. Lila chose her chair, which made Helga grin, in spite of herself.

"Okay, yeah-" Helga fiddled with her t-shirt. "Okay, I'll be down in a few."

"Don't worry about it," Lila already had her phone pulled out, femininely tucking her feet under her. Helga started dashing up the stairs. "Oh, and Helga?"

"Yea?" Helga stopped, putting her hands on the bannister, craning her neck to look down and around to Lila.

She had this sweet, comforting, non-judgemental look on her face. "Wash some more of that conditioner out."

Helga blinked. "Right, then."

* * *

Sid was so comfortable, sitting with Phil and sharing the cookies the wonderful women brought them over, that he was questioning ever leaving the nursing home. He might just live there, on that couch, with cookies and laughs with Arnold's old man, for ever.

"Yea," Sid sat back a little bit. He had finally, after being there for forty minutes, ditched his jacket. It hung over the back of the chair. He picked at a loose thread in his jeans to have something to play with. "I think I'm just a little," he shrugged, "directionless? Right now."

"Well," Phil sat back in his own chair, folding his hands in front of him again, "at least your moving. Even if it's not in one particular path."

"Hah," Sid smirked, staring at the faded jeans that were faded because they were old, and not because he wanted them to be. "Right."

"What are you passionate about?"

"Uh. Family," He looked up, shrugging at Phil. He didn't know what he was supposed to be passionate about. He made guesses at what Phil wanted him to say, fear of disappointing him already spreading in his shoulders "I guess...uh, maybe, like, helping people?"

"No, son-" he put a hand on Sid's knee. It took longer than Phil probably intended it to. Old hands made inches into miles. "What," he wrinkled an old nose, staring at the floor, "dang it," he removed his hand, gesturing in front of him, "I don't even know how to put it." Fingers wiggled as if they would summon his words from the crevices of his mind, "when I was your age," he leaned back in his chair, finally, crossing his hands on his stomach "I had a woman."

Sid raised a skeptical eyebrow "...o-okay?"

Phil smiled, a little bit. "She was fire and I was a mere kindling. Every day was somethin' new. No day was lost. She made my heart race sittin' still, over coffee." He glanced at Sid "before we dumped all kinda' sugars into it." He winked. "And she made me greet the sun with a smile." Phil shrugged, "I never had passions like many men do. Did a lotta jobs, none of them better than the others. Never had a true vice, a liquor, a drug, or young women." He glanced at Sid with a smirk. "I had a woman, and she made my brain work faster, and my eyes see clearer. Everything I did, was because I wanted to provide for her. She was all I was really passionate about."

He stumbled out of the story with little grace, as if he had tumbled down hill back into the present moment. He looked up, catching Sid's eye, leaning forward. "Now, tell me, kiddo: you're sitting on your bed. It's freezing out." Sid nodded, unsure where this was going, "shut your eyes, imagine it." Sid listened, with a little bit of guarded caution. He shut them, leaning back on the cushions of the couch. "You have off work. Off school. You've got nowhere to be, and your favorite meal is next to you, and you have a copy of the movie you really want to see." Sid smiled involuntarily. "It's that kind of temperature where it's super warm in your bed, and super cold outside. Even your hands start to chill if you leave them out of the blanket." Sid nodded, remembering that exact feeling, from a few winters without heat.

"Now: something, and I mean something: if you had the opportunity to do it, or to see them, or get something. Something would make you get out of that bed. Maybe a few things? Tell me, kid" a pause, a breath. "What are they?"

* * *

Helga stepped out of the shower again with a sigh, feeling actually clean that time. She pressed a towel into her hair, swiping at the water collected under her eyes, practically wringing out her hair. She didn't want to take forever, of course. Lila _was_ in her house.

She started to blow her hair out quickly. Not with any particular finesse, mostly because it was too damn cold outside to go out with wet hair. It was mostly like she was caught in agressive windstorm and was doing this weird flippy-hair dance.

She shut it off for moment, only so she could comb it out, and heard a thumping in the other room. She pressed her ear to the mirror to hear better, but it promptly stopped.

"Oh, that bitch-" Helga growled as she picked up her towel and wrapped herself in it, decency be damned "she better not have-"

Oh, but she was. Helga threw open the door to her room to see Lila dead in the middle of it. She had her hair up, now, in a big messy bun on her head, and a garbage bag in her hand.

"Oh," Lila's eyes went wide. She tucked the bag behind her, as if that made it any less visible. "Hi!"

"Stop cleaning my room," Helga told her furiously, feeling herself flush pink. She felt her knees buckle together, she clutched the towel tighter, and stared furiously at the girl. Lila opened her mouth to protest. "I'm dead fucking serious, stop." She felt her throat get hoarse at the serious terseness of her voice.

"I was only trying to-"

"YEA, WELL DON'T." Helga didn't meant to yell, her voice just started yelling before she could stop it.

"Okay," Lila grabbed the bag self consciously. Helga continued to stare her down, before finally moving, just an inch, towards the hall again. She saw Lila, in her peripheral vision, reach for a cup on Helga's bedside table.

"WHAT DID I JUST SAY?!" She was screaming again, and Lila yelped, jumping backwards, pulling her hand defensively in towards herself.

"I'm Sorry, Helga!" Her voice sounded wet. Helga felt her chest tighten up, and oh, god- that girl better not, "I just wanted to hel-"

"You make me feeling fucking INCOMPETENT when you do that!" The punch in the gut, that that's what Helga was, returned. Lila's lower lip was buckling, her eyebrows were knitted in the center of her face. It was a clear _don't cry, don't cry, don't cry_ face that made Helga feel like the punch had moved from her stomach to her nose. She shoved her hand, the free one not holding the towel, into her face, feeling herself flushed, her skin hot. Helga felt shame, boiling in her chest. There was a reason she didn't want anyone in her room. She didn't know how long it would have looked like that without Lila. She felt so incredibly vulnerable, standing there, shaking. Hating every minute of it. "GODDAMNIT, LILA." She yelled into her hand, it was shaking. She couldn't look up at the girl. She felt tears sting in the corners of her eyes.

" _I'm sorry_ ," Lila's whisper sounded so pitiful. She heard the wrinkling of the bag. She must have been clutching it to her, which was disgusting, because Helga knew it must smell nasty.

There was something to be said, there. There was something Helga should have been saying, but every apology or reassurance or acceptance died in the back of her throat before she got even mildly close to vocalizing it, and she didn't know what to do, so she turned around, keeping her hand on her face, all but running down the short hall. She threw open the door to the bathroom, slammed it behind her.

She pressed her back up against it, sank down to the floor, and cried into her hands.

* * *

"All of mine are stupid, tho." Sid sat forward, eyes wracking themselves open. He felt humiliated, even with himself. "Too stupid to say aloud."

"Nothing you love, nothing that makes your heart race, can be stupid. Because, son, even if that man-" he pointed beyond Sid, to a man half asleep in his chair. "Chuckie, nosy ol' bastard, who's probably listening," he rolled his eyes, "he can think it's stupid. But if you can't tell yourself honestly what you love, what can you honestly tell yourself at all?"

"I love...my friends," was the first thing he breathed out. He shut his eyes, feeling the wind slightly knocked out of him, knowing he couldn't honestly list his family. They wouldn't- in fact, they didn't, get out of bed for him.

He wanted to say cars. He wanted something he could feasibly make a career, cause whether Sid liked it or not, following around Helga Pataki was not a career choice. But it wasn't true. A mere car on the side of the street would not have gotten him out of that bed.

"And...beer." His nose wrinkled as he tacked that on honestly. It sounded like one of the few things that would make the whole scene better. "An obstacle course, maybe?" A really cool one, he thought in his head. With lots of challenges, and maybe bmx bikes. And his friends. "People in general. I like to be around people." Sid finished, nodding to himself. "What can I do with that?"

"Hell if I know, son." Phil sat back again. "I just know being honest with yourself is the first step."

* * *

Lila took out the trash, and fixed her mascara in the little, cracked mirror hanging by the door. And then she sat, on the floor, outside of Helga's bathroom. And she waited.

Helga emerged, eventually. Lila didn't know how long it took, she left her phone downstairs. She had her hair dry, long and soft, hanging over her over-sized t-shirt. Her face was pink, but not flushed, and her eyebrows were drawn together with concern.

Lila stood, and she hugged her.

And they never talked about it again.

* * *

True to Helga's thoughts, they found themselves sitting, once again, on Arnold's floor. Sans Arnold. It was a quiet night, a little bit of alcohol and music and light talking and some times with no talking at all. Helga's heart had, for the first time all day, settled into a pattern average enough she wasn't aware of it's beat.

"I gotta tell you guys," Sid had found a hacky sack in one of the rooms. He was laying flat on his back, tossing it up in the air and catching it again. "This is gonna be a weird Christmas."

"No," Lila said, from her spot leaning up against the wall next to him. She leaned over and tapped his nose playfully, "it'll be the new normal."

Gerald and Helga stared a knowing look as they watched the two of them. Helga smirked as she took out her phone to send a Snapchat to Cass.

Gerald had his own tiny speaker playing a song Helga only vaguely recognized because Gerald was clearly fond enough to play it often, and a duffle bag on the floor. Helga had no idea how long he had been there, or if he, like she did once, just never left.

They wasted half the night, just like that. He hesitated to call it a waste, even in his own mind. Music and booze and mindless banter made his heart light. It made him wonder if these moments were what life was about. Stretches of nothing you can only measure in bottle caps that become that fizz in your chest when your kids ask about your youth.

"You know what we should do?" Sid rolled over, looking at the group with a mischievous grin.

"Get high and count how many times the Friends in Friends do something that they would never be able to logistically afford?"

"No," Sid wrinkled his nose, "well, yes, actually. We _should_ do that, just not right now."

"What then, man?" Gerald sat up with interest. He seemed off, or distant, or something, all night. Helga wanted to ask, but then again, but it was _Gerald_ , so she didn't.

"We should clean out some of the rooms," Sid sat up, looking at all of them. "They're filled with all kinds of treasures." Most of the vacant rooms, or suites, were filled with all sorts of junk left from prior tenants. Sid had been insatiably curious about it since they set foot in the boarding home. Arnold never looked particularly interested in going through it, not for defensive reasons, but not for any specific reason. Probably just didn't want to clean out old garbage.

"Translation: trash," Helga corrected.

"Or treasure if you're looking at it the right way. Plus, it'd probably take a load off Arnold when he comes back. And...I found this in there," He tossed the sack to Lila, who squinted at it. "WHO KNOWS what magic could be in there?" Helga didn't have the energy to explain to Sid that he was the only person alive to consider a hacky sack treasure.

"I want to argue with your logic, but," Gerald rubbed his hands together, "I don't have any better suggestions. So, let's do it y'all. Let's check out these rooms."

* * *

They were now sitting in a relatively empty single room. Most of it turned out to be, as he expected, complete garbage. Sid was rather enthralled with records he found, and was examining them on the floor. Even though the findings were slim, they took it upon themselves to clean out the room. They were each, probably, driven individually by a love for Arnold. That was Gerald's reason for it, anyway. It remained unspoken, as it probably should have. "That was." Gerald heaved an enormous sigh. "Way more work than I thought it would be." He sat, mildly victoriously, on the edge of the bed. He didn't want to sit all the way on it. He had no idea if there were critters in there or not.

"What is wrong with our definition of fun," Lila commented from her spot leaning against the wall, "when all we do together is homework and clean things."

"TREASURE HUNTING," Sid loudly corrected, examining song choices.

"Yeah," Helga sunk into the mattress next to Gerald with a smirk. She shared another look with him "treasure hunting." He had no idea how her day went, but he couldn't help the feeling it was similar to his, up until now.

But, because sometimes, how the day went truly went by how you chose to remember it, Gerald let out a tired breath, and said "sure."

And then, finally, he laughed.

* * *

Helga slid into her house, shutting the door behind her with a quiet click. The light was on in her kitchen, even though her Dad's car wasn't in the driveway yet. She hung up the coat Lila had meticulously shoved on her shoulders on the hook. She scratched the back of her neck, wanting to make a break for it, to run up the stairs.

"Hi, Mom." She greeted pleasantly before she knew what she was doing. It was late for her mom to be awake and not...well. Her mom sat at the table, pouring over documents in front of her. Helga pulled a chair away so she could sit in it. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to take _classes_." Miriam exclaimed enthusiastically, and Helga felt ashamed to be relieved at the lack of liquor on the edges of her mother's breath. "At the Community College. Won't that be fun, Helga?" She shoved her welcome packet towards Helga.

Helga, frankly, struggled to think of anything less fun, but she cleaned out a room in an old house for no apparent reason with her friends today, so she had nothing.

"Cool, mom."

"What did you get up to today, sweetie?"

The sweetie dripped like cough syrup onto Helga, tasting sour in her mouth, making her uncomfortable. She shifted around in her seat, thinking of the day. Of taking hours to shower properly. At yelling at her best friend, for no reason, and crying about it. A virtual emotional rollercoaster that was her just trying to live every day life. To cleaning out a room. "Nothing in particular," she replied honestly, nodding to herself. "What are your classes in?"

"Computer programming." She hummed happily to herself.

"...really?"

"Yup," she nodded to herself, a pleased little grin on wrinkled skin. She pushed her glasses up on to her head. "I was a real numbers gal in college."

"I thought you were on swimming scholarshi-"

"Oh, I was." Helga struggled to remember a time when her mother looked flushed with pride at her own self. It had her feeling destitute, what kind of life had Miriam lived to never feel good about anything? "I can never keep anything straight," she said with a giggle, looking around the kitchen, which was, admittedly, messier than it had been before her arrival home, "but numbers. Those make sense, you know. And code, it's like it's own little language. _Fascinating_."

Helga fiddled with the ends of her hair, a question burning her chest. She asked it to her hair, rather than her mother, because it was just somehow easier. "What happened?"

And Helga was expecting some sort of clarification question, some sort of reply that indicated confusion. But she was kidding herself. Helga knew that her mom knew exactly what Helga thought of her. As a kid, anyway. Helga didn't know what to think anymore. What happened is a perfectly reasonable question when Miriam knew her kid constantly wondered how'd you end up like this.

"You had to make the sandwiches before the eggs."

"...what?"

"In the morning," Miriam wasn't making anymore sense, and Helga feared, for just a moment, that she was drunk. "If you went ahead and did the eggs first then the girls might need your help with something and then everyone leaves the house without lunch. And the laundry needs to be out of the dryer by at least 2 p.m. so it's not getting folded when your husband gets home, because he hates to look at mess. Pianos need tuned regularly if they're going to sound right, and plants have to be watered certain days to grow. And you know what? A shot of vodka made the day so much easier to deal with."

Helga's mouth was dry, but she said nothing, and she listened.

"Homework had to be done by 4:30 or we'd be late for ballet, and cast iron pans do not get washed, they get seasoned. Whites need just a little bit of bleach to have hope at all of staying white, and ties can't be washed at home. You can clean a blender with just a little bit of water and soap and have it spin around. A glass in the wine in the morning is okay if it's in orange juice. I never really put much thought into wanting to be a home-maker. I didn't think I did at all. There was so much to keep in lines, in perfect little rows when most days I just wanted to sleep. And when you're picking up text books, and driving children places and pressing slacks and making dinner, and trying your best to keep track of everyone, no one keeps track of you." She sat forward, setting her chin in her palm. Her shirt was blue, rolled up at the sleeves. Her hair was pushed out of her face with a tortoise shell headband.

Helga became succinctly aware that she got her mother's eyes.

"So," Miriam's shoulders twitched up, a whisper of a shrug, some place distant, "no one knows the day you disappear." She looked away, finally, from her daughter, at the calendar on their fridge. It's from a few years ago, Helga hastily taped it up when they moved in, hopeful for better things in their new house, or something like that. There's nothing on it. "I don't."

Helga nods, looking at the calendar herself. "Okay, mom." She says quietly, standing up, and hoping it sounds enough like an _I forgive you._

Or, at least, she was starting to.


	27. Chapter 27

There were few things more terrible than a shrill ring ripping one right out of sleep. It wasn't cold in her bed that morning, but it was cold in her room when she reached down to the floor to get her phone. Helga groaned into her phone when she answered it. The voice on the other side laughed warmly. "Good morning, sunshine." Arnold greeted her with a snort.

"God, I missed the sound of your voice." She breathed before thinking. Her eyes snapped open just after. "Forget I said that."

"Already forgotten," she could hear his crooked smile. "I miss _you_."  
He had been gone three days but it had dragged, especially when they hadn't talked yesterday.

"How are you?" He asked, and she sat up, rolling her neck, staring around at her bedroom.

She launched into the story, how messy she let her room get, her argument with Lila. She mentioned going to Arnold's but left out the cleaning, and she could call it a Christmas surprise.

"How's your room now?"

"The same," she yawned. "I want to pick it up today, because Cass flies home after her last final this afternoon."

"Start now." He told her calmly. "While we're on the phone."

"Ugh," She flopped back down. "How is California? Sunny, wonderful?" She evaded gracelessly.

"I'm happy to tell you everything about it," he replied warmly, "I've got a three hour drive to make. And three hours is plenty of time to clean your room, sooo" he drawled, then laughed when she groaned, but she was doing so as she sat up.

"Alright, alright, enough, Mom" she threw her covers back, picking up her sweatshirt from the floor. "Tell me about the job, Arnold." She practically hummed into the phone. "How was your meeting with David?"

"I don't know. I think I'm interested but it's a lot and I really just wanted to talk the whole thing over with, like, Mom and Dad. And Grandpa. And you. And we-"

Helga's heart, even as she was picking up trash and organizing piles of dirty clothes, was light.

* * *

Everything was busy on Christmas eve eve eve, apparently. Even the corner store on Arnold's block was annoyingly jammed when Sid went in that morning for milk and ham. He now had milk and also ham, but he practically had to body check this one guy for it, but no bag because they were out. He was shuffling things around, trying to keep a hold on the milk and the ham and his wallet as he stuffed money back into it when he walked out of the shop. He lost a dollar, and it fluttered to the ground. Sid cursed, trying to step on it, but it was swept away in the wind.

Considering Sid was jobless and sort of homeless after that week and living off of birthday cash he stored in a sock drawer two years ago, he swallowed his pride, and he chased it.

When he rounded the back of the corner store he finally managed to step on it, pin it to the floor, and he grinned, feeling the wind rub his cheeks raw and his hair was flying crazily about his head.

A soft bleeting noise came from a few feet in front of him.

"Oh." He swallowed thickly, barely managing to keep from toppling over and hold on to everything in his hands, "hello."

Sid blinked.

The goat, standing by itself a few feet in front of him, blinked back.

* * *

"You know what I think is kind of a bullshit color?" Helga commented as she threw out, once again, a paper plate crusted with paint. It was gross because some of the paint had separated before drying, and the oil was still a runny mess on it.

"What?"

"Yellow."

Arnold snorted on the other line. They had been talking for over an hour and still somehow had no shortage of things to talk about. "Okay, I'll bite: why?"

"I don't know, yellow just is kind of the color of light to me." Helga threw out the plate, sighing, but at least she had made a true dent in the mess in her room already. "Like, christmas lights: pretty yellow, right? But nobody looks at a yellow light, and thinks to themselves: 'that there looks like a yellow light.' It's just a _light_. All the other lights you can be all 'this homeboy is blue,' or 'playa round the block is red.'"  
"I'd wager that no one thinks that when looking at any colored light."

"SUN: is also yellow," she spoke over him, laughing as she did so. She knew what she was saying was kind of absolute bullshit, but she was enjoying the muffled sounds of his amusement on the other end. "Also a light."

"Autumn leaves," she continued, looking at her poetry tree with a little rush of pride again, "also yellow."

"Are you just...naming things that are yellow, now?"

"And lights."

"Leaves are not lights."

"I think they are." Helga laid back on her bed, tucking her arm under her head. The trash was out of her room with only one half full bag to spare in the corner. The clothes were in manageable piles on the floor. For someone who wore four shirts, tops, on a continuous loop, she had a lot of clothes. "They're their own little signal, or, I don't know. Sense of clarity, maybe. In their own way." She paused, listening to him breath on the other end. She loved the rhythm, soothing and steady. "I think that's all light really is, anyway. It helps you see more clearly." She clicked her tongue and waited for a response. "I guess that sounds stupid."

"It doesn't." He responded clearly. "...are you writing poetry on me?"

Helga laughed as she sat up and grabbed her notebook, which she had stuff under her bed. "Maybe."

* * *

"There is a _what_ in Arnold's house." Gerald's response was surprisingly dead-panned. Sid was anxiously pacing around in a circle in the foyer. The goat was just standing there. It was little and black and white and more than likely not a full sized goat. Sid had never seen a goat before, so he had no reference point. He had blacked out in between the shop and then, and now he was standing with a goat in his borrowed home. He couldn't just leave it on the street.

It was Christmas.

Almost.

"You know what, don't answer that. We're coming over. Don't move." Gerald hung up before Sid could say anything else.

* * *

"I have unleashed a hell demon into the household of Arnold Shortman," Sid was curled up on the counter top, watching the goat run in circles around the kitchen table. One moment it was just standing there staring at him, next it was like a runaway lawnmower but the lawn was LITERALLY EVERYTHING IN SIGHT. It was biting furniture, ramming walls, and making an honest attempt at destroying the flooring.

"'Hi Cass!'" Cassidy imitated a friendly caller on the phone, "'How are you, Cass!'" She mimicked a happy, personal greeting, "'I'm gonna start phone calls like a normal person from now on!'"

Sid wielded a brown broom for his defense and had no time for sass from Cassidy. "When I die," the goat had seen him, shit. He tried to make himself look small, "at the hands of this goat." It was walking, then, calmly. The calm before the storm. "You'll regret your last words to me being criticism of my phone calling techniques."

"I just thought, you know, this one time: 'oh, my friend is calling while I wait for my flight to come back to our hometown. He's probably wishing me a safe flight, how sweet!'"

"SOUNDS LIKE A YOU PROBLEM, CASS." Sid shouted as the goat seemed to be biting for Sid's broom, and Sid was going to be damned if he let the goat take his only means of self defense. The goat rammed the counter. Sid screamed.

"Jesus Christ, Siddy, have you called Tac?"

"SHE WON'T ANSWER."

"Right." Cass's tired voice came through the receiver. "Well, I can't help you from Arizona."

"YOU CAN," he attempted to hit the goat with the broom to bat it away from a stool it seemingly had a particular vengeance for. It was very ineffective from his position atop the counter, "YOU CAN EMOTIONALLY SUPPORT ME."

"I will."

"THANK YOU."

"In spirit, because I have to get on the plane."

"FUCK YOU."

* * *

"Helga," Arnold's soft voice came through the phone.

She gently wiggled in the soft, warm, haze of her room. The sun did wonderful things for the heat through the window at certain times of th day. "Mm, yea?"

"Are you falling asleep?" He asked her, sounding fond.

"I shouldn't be." She sat up hastily. During bouts like this of mental duress, she slept often. She slept when she didn't want or need to be sleeping. Her body would just shut down. She scratched the back of her neck. At some point she started sweating, but it wasn't necessarily uncomfortable. "How's the drive?" She countered.

"Almost there," he responded lightly.

"What are you doing, again?" He had mentioned several times that he wanted to take a road trip during the conference, but didn't mention at all why or what he was trying to accomplish.

"I…" he stopped, "I just had some business I wanted to take care of."

"Okay," she didn't push the issue further. God knew there was stuff about her life she hadn't told Arnold yet. "Sid's calling me again," it was true. Sid had called four times since their phone call started, and sent easily 25 texts.

"Any idea what's wrong?'

"It's probably something stupid."

Arnold snorted. "Do you want to call him now?

"Kind of."

"Okay." She looked around. She hadn't actually managed to write anything her notebook, getting lost in her conversation with Arnold. But her room was, blessedly, more clean. She had even swept the floors. They could really use a good polishing, but there was no way she was going to fool herself into thinking she'd actually do that. She heard signs of life in the kitchen downstairs. Miriam had been trying to bake recently. It, granted, yielded a few disastrous results, but she found it charming, all the same. She grabbed a sharpie from the little mug on her nightstand and wrote YELLOW on her arm in block letters, so she'd remember what she was thinking about later. "I'm almost there, anyway."

"Tell me about it later?" She asked, trying to be less nosy and failing miserably.

"I- yes. If all goes well, absolutely." He told her. "Talk to you tomorrow?"

"Okay. I-" love you were the words the died on her tongue. They had come out of nowhere, flowing out of her vocal chords before she even thought about it. They tasted bitter in her mouth, heavy, the way medicine tastes when it feels like it doesn't belong there but you know it does "will call." She finished, stumbling.

"Bye now."

"Bye."

After they hung up, she glanced at her texts from Sid, but couldn't be bothered to read them. She laid back on her bed, phone on her chest. She stared at the cracks in her ceiling, swathed in the yellow light from her window and tried not to think the same three words over and over again.

i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you

* * *

"At least it's cute." Mari commented lightly, as they watched the goat further destroy the small sitting area, and it's old, decrepit, couch.

"At least the last tenant moved out last Friday." Gerald corrected, as the goat determinedly tried to kick in the leg of the small table with the lamp on it.

Sid ran into the room quickly, holding a large butterfly net, a rope, a spray bottle of Windex, and a vintage lantern, for some reason. He kept the net, but thrust the other things in Mari and Gerald's direction. "HELP ME OUT, GUYS," He practically screamed as they made no effort to catch these objects, and instead, watched them clatter to the floor, "COME HERE YOU LITTLE BASTARD," He screeched, and Mari noted that he had found some time to smudge mysterious black battle paint on to his cheeks. He made a rallying battle cry, and lunged for the goat.

"Animal control?" Mari suggested to Gerald, kicking the lamp off her foot.

"Already on it."

* * *

"...Mom?" Miriam Pataki was sitting in the over-stuffed armchair in their living room, cradling what looked like a frame. She looked pensieve. She looked sadder than she had since arriving back in Hillwood, at least that Helga had seen. She was wearing an overly decorative Christmas sweater, and she had reindeer antlers on her head. It was overall a terrible scene to look at.

"Did," Miriam asked, holding the photo more delicately. "Did we ever hear from her?"

It was a photo from Olga's wedding. Olga, her husband, and Helga's parents. Helga remembered not wanting to be photographed. She didn't want herself involved at all. She knew that man was a horrible person from the moment they met.

"No," Helga took the photo gently. She returned it to where it was originally on the mantel. "To be fair," she commented lightly, adjusting it so it aligned with their other beaten up frames, "we had to change our number." Helga turned around, shoving her hands into her pockets. "When we moved."

"Do you think she's tried to call? Or get in touch?" Her mother asked pitifully. She pushed her glasses up on her head. They collided with the antlers. Helga winced, and grabbed a few tissues.

"I don't know, Mom. He..." _might not have let her_ was the ending to the sentence in Helga's mind. "He could be pretty controlling."

"Was he?" Miriam swiped under her eyes. She had green eye-shadow on, applied poorly. Helga cringed.

"Yeah."

"I, uh," loud sniffle. "I don't remember it well."

It crushed Helga's chest. That her mother was too drunk to remember her own daughter's wedding. She sat down on the footstool next to the armchair. She didn't know what to say. She had this conversation with Bob so many times. No, no one knew where Olga was. No, she wasn't visible on Facebook. Helga didn't have so much as an email for her. It had been five years. Olga might have kids. Olga could be doing anything. Olga couldn't be - or maybe didn't want to be found.

But Helga had a sneaking suspicion that it wasn't her family she was hiding from.

"We've looked for her," Helga told her finally. She had scrolled through thousands of Facebook pages. Variations of Olga, her married name, her given name, any nicknames she could remember. She had searched through pages upon pages of Google results. She came up with nothing every single time.

"I just," Miriam broke down into her hand. Helga never particularly knew what to do with crying people. "It's _Christmas_."

It was Christmas.

"I want to know if she's safe." Miriam's makeup melted of with her tears. Her wrinkled skin under her eyes became more apparent. Her dark circles shone through. Her mother looked old, and exhausted. Helga inhaled shakily. "I want-" her desire got cut off with a sob. Helga knew what she was going to say, and knew why she didn't say it.

Her chest hurt.

"I want her to come home, too, Mom." Helga admitted to her gently, grabbing her knee. She wasn't lying. She loved her sister. Miriam grabbed her by the wrist, tugging her daughter in. Helga's innate instinct was to fight, to wiggle out of her grip. But her mother was sobbing in front of her. She caved, and let herself be tugged in to her Mom's lap. She curled up there, knowing her Mom just needed to hold her daughter.

Miriam sobbed into her sweatshirt.

* * *

The next person to barrel through the door of the boarding house was not, apparently, animal control. Her red hair was tied up into a knot and she had a red mouth and she was breathing so heavily they might have assumed she ran there despite her own car.

She peeled off a peacoat to reveal a sweater that was thickly knitted and somewhat ratty, and leggings tucked into ugg boots which made Mari roll her eyes, just a little bit. She dropped her coat on the near-by chair, and turned to them with wide eyes.

"Where is she?"

"She?" Gerald replied, quirking an eyebrow.

"Why she?" Mari asked, shoving her hands in her back-pockets of olive colored pants.

"I dunno," Lila shrugged, looking around the room already for the goat in question, "I got a real feminine energy from the phone when Sid called." She was looking under the coffee table and Gerald didn't want to tell her that a. The goat wasn't in the room and b. Even if it was, you'd easily be able to see it if it was under the coffee table standing normally.

Sid screamed: high-pitched, and effeminately, and there was a clatter falling down the stairs. Gerald didn't know if that was him, or the goat, but he would probably place money on Sid, unfortunately.

"You sure that wasn't Sid's energy you were picking up on?" Gerald asked. Mari smacked him with a snort.

"SID STOP," Lila scrambled up, running up the stairs, "YOU'RE GONNA SCARE HER."

"So," Gerald sat down on the couch, watching Lila run for the stairs, "what are we gonna do if we don't get a call back from animal control?"

Lila and Sid arguing over clatter could be heard in the distance. Mari, with a sigh, sat down next to him, tucking herself into her side.

"We go get Helga."

Gerald checked his phone, "she's already on her way."

* * *

"So, bad news:" Sid said. The four of them were sitting around in the living room, Gerald in the big chair, Sid cross-legged on the couch next to Mari, Lila on the floor. Each of them was holding their own bowl of cereal "we lost the goat." The couch had lost it's stuffing. It was a good thing it was ugly as sin and easily thirty years old. Helga shut the door behind her and kicked off her shoes. She thought absent-mindedly that they should all really be less nonchalant about the entire thing but they...weren't. So.

"Frosted flakes?" Helga asked, wishing the boarding house weren't so damned drafty.

"Lucky charms." Gerald said around a mouth full of cereal. Helga nodded, she could go for some lucky charms. She made her way back into the kitchen. She shivered a little bit, but she knew it was her own fault for making her way to the house without a coat on. "Sid?" She called over her shoulder, "I thought you said the goat destroyed this room." There was a nibble taken out of the leg of a really rickety stool no one used.

"I blacked out in terror," a mouth full of cereal responded a room over.

Arnold 2:42 p.m.   
this is not going well  
this is harder than i thought it would be

Helga 2:43 p.m.  
lmao  
a Mood for my talk with miriam  
a Mood for my entire life tbh  
wtf are u even doing

Helga hummed, fixing herself a bowl. In the fridge, there were a box of crackers, which didn't belong in a fridge. There was two bottles of ketchup, a tub of lo-mein, and what apppeared to be a single pickle. Helga grabbed the milk, and shut the fridge quickly. She'd need to speak with Sid about his eating habits.

"SO," she walked back into the other room, bowl in hand, "what are we doing about this goat thing?"

"I WAS THINKING:" Sid announced loudly, a sure-fire sign he hadn't been thinking at all, "We get a car."

"Okay."

"I, uh- have a car." Gerald commented, but was quickly shushed by Mari.

"We get a car," Sid repeated, because the flow of his plan reveal was clearly ruined. Gerald gave them all, including the goat, because it was somewhere in the house, an incredibly flat look. "We cross state lines. We find an enterprise rent-a-car because they give you the tools to be your own boss."

"What the fuck, Sid?" Lila asked softly, and Helga snorted into her bowl of lucky charms. Gerald was shaking his head and Mari had a smile that was a lilt of amusement sitting on her face. Helga sat against the couch, between Sid's legs. He absent-mindedly pet her head. She hummed.

"Animal control call back yet?" Mari asked Gerald, slurping the milk in her bowl.

"Nope," he popped the p.

It was a quiet, but it was a comfortable quiet. It was familiar, and Helga was happy to just hear the small symphony of her spoon clanging against her bowl combined with the hum of traffic outside.

Arnold 2:50 p.m.  
I just...  
I'll tell you later  
Is your mom okay?

Helga 2:52 p.m.   
just upset about olga  
what else is new  
i'm at yours now  
literally what else is new lmao

Arnold 2:55 p.m.  
That's fucking weird.

Helga blinked with surprise at his cursing. She was legitimately surprised he seemed so bothered by it. She almost felt guilty, like they should all vacate immeadiately. Or, at least, find the goat that was terrorizing his home. She typed out a worried reply, then quickly deleted it. She tried to keep the mood casual.

Helga 3:00 p.m.  
newsflash buddy  
we've been hanging out here all the time since you've left

Arnold 3:02 p.m.  
No, that's not what i  
Nevermind.

"So…" Sid drawled, "is cereal a soup?"

"Fuck you." Gerald said at the same time Mari said a curt "no" while Lila just asked "what?"

"Okay, fine. Damn." Sid replied.

"I mean…" Helga commented lightly, "is gazpacho a soup?"

"Yea," Lila shrugged, wiggling around to more comfortably situation herself on the floor. Mari handed down the cushion that was next to her. Lila accepted it gratefully, "a cold soup."

"So…" Sid followed Helga's vein of thought "if there can be cold soup…"

"NO, okay, NO" Gerald got heated, reaching over to the small circular table by his seat and putting his bowl on it, just so he could gesticulate "gazpacho? TOTALLY different than cereal."

"Cereal is a dairy-based soup," Sid said as if it were the most logical thing in the world.

"NO!" Lila insisted.

"YOU CAN'T JUST TAKE CEREAL AND MILK AND PUT IT TOGETHER AND CALL IT A SOUP." Mari added loudly.

"What if you went half and half with milk and chicken broth?" Helga added reasonably.

"THEN YOU HAVE A DISASTER."

"That is just a WASTE of FOOD."

The goat meandered into the room calmly, blinking at them. Helga's eyebrows raised. "Oh."

"Hello," Lila greeted the goat politely.

Sid dropped his bowl. It clattered to the ground. Helga expected the goat to haul ass out of there with the noisy sound on her right, but it continued to stare. It was smaller than she was expecting. She supposed she didn't actually know how big goats were.

"He's fucking with us," she told the room quietly as they all stared at it.

"Yep." Gerald agreed.

"She," Lila corrected.

* * *

Arnold 3:12 p.m.  
How are things at mine?

The goat kicked over a lamp.

Sid shrieked.

Helga 3:13 p.m.  
Uneventful.

* * *

Lila had the genius idea of trying to lure the goat away with food. It was a natural assumption to make, Sid thought. It was just proving itself weak in execution. Apparently, goats had very little interest in pickles. Or Lila, because it seemed pretty damn intent on chasing Gerald around in a circle on the second floor. They kept all the doors to the bedrooms shut tightly. No matter what they did, the goat just seemed to get more stressed out. It probably didn't help that Sid was blasting Danger Zone from his phone.

He threw the net to Gerald. "JUST FUCKING CATCH IT," he yelled over the music. Lila was still sitting on the stairs, waving the pickle around in what Sid was sure she thought was an enticing manner. She looked like a conductor for the world's worst orchestra.

"THIS IS A NET FOR INSECTS, SID," Gerald jumped up on the bannister, holding his legs up precariously so the goat wouldn't nip at them. "IT IS NOT GOAT SIZED."

"MAKE IT GOAT SIZED."

"THAT'S NOT HOW," he swiped at the goat that lunged for him, "THAT WORKS."

"DON'T YOU FUCKING HURT HER, GERALD."

"SHE'S TRYING TO KILL ME, LILA." Gerald screamed back. Helga burst out of one of the bedrooms with a massive quilt, and Mari behind her. "AHA!" She yelled, throwing it over the goat, as if they had made a grand discovery. Which they hadn't not done, because the goat stilled. It wandered around under the blanket, looking confused.

"...what... what now?" Gerald asked the group as the goat meandered around under the blanket.

"I don't know." Helga looked at Mari. Mari shrugged. "I didn't think we'd get this far."

"Can we..." Lila's head tilted to the side, "pick it up?" She asked, still wielding the mighty pickle.

"It'll buck like nobody's business," Gerald rubbed at a calf. "I'm gonna have bruises from this, y'all."

"If we could just get it to follow my pickle..." Lila added thoughtfully, like she was hitting a break through.

"Lila, baby," Mari told her softly, "nobody want ya' damn pickle. Y'all are just stressin' out the poor thing. If we just-"

The goat emerged with a venegance, bucking the blanket off of it. It bucked into Helga's shin. She swore loudly, falling over. Mari disappeared into a bedroom. Lila held out the pickle. Gerald began to try and reason with the goat with words. Sid thought that a nap sounded really, really good to him at the moment.

* * *

"Look, men." It was an hour and a half later. Gerald thought spirits were mildly broken, but they weren't about to let the goat get them down. Gerald was also pretty sure ninety percent of the damage was their fault, and not the goats, and nothing was broken that couldn't be replaced. He and Helga were standing in the kitchen, in front of Sid, Lila and Mari who sat at the table. At some point in time, Mari had procured a black eye-liner and drawn war stripes on their faces. "If we want to beat this goat, we gotta think," he tapped his temple, "like this goat."

He and Helga had cleared out the bedroom on the first floor, with the plan to lure the goat in there. Lila, and Sid, actually, completely objected to putting the goat back outside. So did Gerald, really. It was Christmas, but also cold outside. And there were always weird animal hanging around the boarding house. He highly doubted Arnold would mind. In fact, he wouldn't be surprised if Arnold wanted to keep it.

Mari stood up, announcing she was going to the bathroom, taking the bag of popcorn in her lap with her.

"EXACTLY," Helga agreed, finishing tying her hair up on to her head. "This slippery little bastard is in our heads. WE need to be in HIS head."

"Her."

"WHATEVER."

"WHO ARE GOATS." Gerald slammed his hands down on the counter authoritatively, like in cop movies, because he was pretty sure they were fucking around now and he took any shot he got at being dramatic, "WHO IS GOATS."

"WHAT ARE THEIR MOTIVES" Helga seemed content to join him with the dramatic yelling, grabbing Sid's shoulders.

"What do goats," Lila added quietly, introspectively "want most out of life?" She asked, looking down, looking like she was asking herself. Gerald wasn't entirely sure she understood they were partially messing around, because it looked like she had some serious life questions about goats.

A door slammed down the hall, and they all jumped. Mari walked back into the room, looking non-plussed.

"Goats in the room." She threw popcorn into her mouth.

"WHAT?" "HOW?" "DID SHE TELL YOU WHAT SHE WANTS?"

"Turns out," Mari's hand dug around in the popcorn bag again, "popcorn trail? Highly effective."

* * *

 _a/n hiiii guys i misssed youuuu. this is like. a silly break. y'all know me i can't live with out a sprinkle of crack. thanks for reading. i just realized on a broad scale how long this fic is and it's like. a real commitment to reading this like deadass im honored and i love you all especially those of you who tell me what you think and are so sweet you don't know it but you genuinely mean the entire damn world to me._


	28. Chapter 28

_a/n:_

 _so last chapter the wrong one got uploaded at the beginning - it was a draft. it has now been fixed. give it a skim if you like because there are two scenes in it now that might have not been in it when you read it before. okay, ! onward._

* * *

Gerald woke up on Christmas Eve, and did the same thing he did every morning.

Gerald 9:12 a.m.  
Good morning, baby  
Merry Christmas  
Eve  
I guess

* * *

"One more?" Helga sat up and stretched. It was freezing out, but there was no snow. The draft in the window had become a serious issue in the attic of the boarding house, despite the light pouring in through the ceiling. Sid rolled over with a groan.

"What time issit?" He mumbled into the pillow. Helga checked her phone, and just straight-out laughed.

"Ten twelve a.m." She ran her fingers through her greasy hair. They stayed up all night. It had been ages since they had done that, but she had been at the boarding house since the goat incident. They ended up calling family of Lila's, who took her away. It was a she, it was confirmed. Lila named her Honey. Sid named her Hell Demon.

"Oh my god." Sid groaned into his pillow with a laugh.

Helga and Sid stayed in the attic the past two days, mostly re-watching a terrible comedy on Netflix. Cassidy had come for part of it, but ultimately she had "family obligations" and "a bed of her own," pffft. Sid and Helga hadn't slept since yesterday at two p.m. It had been a while since they did that, but they made a habit of it when growing up together.

* * *

 _Christmas that year was the worst it had ever been, in Helga Pataki's opinion. Her boyfriend was busy with his family constantly, and might be moving, her sister was marrying a jerk, and Phoebe was on a family trip to Kentucky. She could hear the sounds of the party going on downstairs. Her mother was drunk out of her mind. She was the last time Helga went down there._

 _Her house phone rang, and she sprung to her feet. She ran to answer it, hoping it was Arnold. She prayed it was Arnold inviting her over to his own family party. He made it sound fancy. He was going to meet scientists in the city._

" _Hello?" She answered hurriedly._

" _Hi," a squeaky voice said in return._

 _It was Sid._

 _Sid was a new thing in Helga's life, relatively so. They had been friends the last few months. They had a lot in common, she thought. Or, could assume so. But they weren't necessarily call-each-other-on-the-phone levels of friendship. Or, at least, she didn't think they were._

 _"Squid?" She asked with disbelief._

 _"Yeah."_

" _Hi." She replied gruffly, with disappointment. He was probably calling her to wish a polite Merry Christmas. She imagined that was something Phoebe did, people who were better at being friends with people did that. Phoebe hadn't called her that year, though._

" _Wh-what are you doing?"_

 _Helga squinted at the wall. There were lights hung up in a mismatched pattern. Miriam couldn't do anything right. "...why?" She asked carefully._

" _I, um-" his voice cracked._

" _Sid, are you okay?" She demanded. He sounded like he was in pain. She twirled the phone cord around her finger._

" _Oh, yeah, I'm fine-" Sid never sounded less fine. "Just, like, nobody's home, and stuff-" Helga squinted at her fuzzy socks squished against the floorboards. How was nobody home on Christmas Eve? "So, I'm watching Avatar, and it's super weird. I didn't think it would be this we-"_

" _How do you have Avatar?" She interrupted his tirade. "That came out like… four days ago, or something."_

" _My mom's skeevey friend bought a copy of it and left it here when he... It doesn't really matter." Helga thought it did matter, but that was beside the point, because Sid kept talking. She glanced at her window, and then down the steps to the party going on below. They thought she was locked up in her room for the night._

 _It was a crazy idea._

 _But she was miserable._

 _By the sounds of it, so was he._

 _She would rather be miserable with him than without him._

" _Sid?" She interrupted his rant about Avatar. She hadn't been listening, anyway._

" _Yeah?"_

 _She chewed on her lip._ _She thought about what to say next._ _There was one diner in town that never closed, not even on Christmas. She hadn't seen Avatar yet. That she hated her family, too._

 _What she said didn't even end up being a question. It was a simple "meet me at Main and Maple."_

" _Okay."_

 _She couldn't shake the thought, shimmying down the side of her house, that that wouldn't be the last crazy idea she had that involved Sidney Jones._

* * *

"More Sunny?" Helga suggested, sitting up to adjust the computer screen in front of them. "Or we could…" she clicked on the main screen. A number of Christmas movies appeared. "We could watch something Christmas themed," she scratched her ankle with an amused huff of a breath.

Sid's face turned to her while still being shoved into the pillow, "you want to watch Rudolph?" He raised a skeptical eyebrow.

She shrugged. "I dunno, I thought you might."

"Why would I want to watch Rudolph."

She smacked him with a pillow. Black hair flew everywhere. "It doesn't have to be Rudolph, fucker."

"Did you just call me a reindeer fucker?"

"Oh my god."

Helga scrolled through the Christmas movies with a sly smile. Her phone pinged with a notification. Sid had texted their group chat with Cass.

Sid 10:20 a.m.  
cass  
which misfit toy are u

Cass 10:22 a.m.  
Come again?

Sid 10:22 a.m.  
Island of misfit toys  
Which one are u

Helga could not believe that fucker was still stuck on Rudolph. It was just a _suggestion_.

Cass 10:24 a.m.  
Idk  
Which ones gay

Helga laughed then, tossing her phone down. Her cursor settled over ELF, overly tempted even though she'd seen it four thousand times.

"Pretty sure you're the spotted elephant," Sid told her, typing back furiously. "I'm the water pistol that shoots jelly. Cass is the choo choo with square wheels."

"Thank God we got that sorted out," Helga read through the description of a film she hadn't seen. She was fairly sure it was alluding that Santa Claus is a dog. Those movies just kept getting weirder. "How would we have gone on?"

"Your phone is ringing." Sid said plainly. He picked it up and offered it to her.

"Arnold or Bob?" She asked, not taking it.

"Bob."

She took it and flipped it open to answer it. She stepped out of Arnold's bed, over the chip bags that littered it. "Hi, Dad" she answered kindly.

"Hey, Helga." Her Father's rough voice came through the spotty connection. "Are you coming to the Nativity tonight?" It was strangely soft. She marveled, as she stepped out of the attic, at how far they had come. Years ago it would have demands. There probably already would be yelling.

"Yeah," she answered softly. She actually hadn't thought of it, but she would go. "I'll be home by lunch."

"Okay."

"How's Mom?"

"She's okay today. Less upset about your sister."

"Okay. Well, I'll be home in a few hours."

"Do ya'..." Bob trailed off. He clearly rephrased the question before asking. He was careful with older age. Or therapy. Or both. "One of your little friends want ta' come?" Helga looked back, even though she couldn't see Sid anymore. It was kind of ironic that Bob probably didn't know the names of her best friends of years, but he was trying.

"I don't know." She answered honestly. "Maybe." She doubted Sid was going to want to go to church with her family, but the offer was nice to have.

"Okay. I guess it doesn't matter either way. We'll see you soon?"

"Yeah, be there in a few hours."

"Alright." That was the part where they said I love you. That's what they had been told, by the media and their therapist. The awkward pause, Helga thought, where they both thought about saying it, was enough. It was enough. Helga really thought so.

"Bye."

"Bye."

Helga shut her phone. And then opened it, to text and ask Arnold if he had taken off yet.

She walked back up the stairs to the bedroom. Sid was flopped on his stomach, facetiming Cass. "I picked already." He looked up at her. "We're watching The Nightmare Before Christmas."

A rush of thoughts came to Helga's mind. That that was a Halloween movie. That Cass was like ten minutes away, tops, and should just come over. That Sid looked ridiculous. He looked younger than he had in years. He looked like a burrito. He was nestled under the comforter with his phone propped up. All you could see were tufts of black, wavy hair, and his face peeking out. He looked like a tacquito made of flesh and cotton. All of those thoughts came to Helga.

But mostly what came to her was a rush of affection for Sid.

* * *

 _Helga and Sid watched Avatar four times that Christmas Eve of 2009._

 _Neither of them particularly liked Avatar._

* * *

Gerald 11:49 a.m.  
are you going to service tonight?  
my aunty is here  
my cheeks are already burning, haha.

* * *

"Arnold, honey." Arnold was vaguely aware someone was shoving his shoulder. He woke up with a start. His Mom had taken up the seat next to him. They hadn't been seated together, but whoever was sitting in the aisle had vacated the spot. He choked a little. The airplane air was so dry, it was almost over-whelming.

"Hey, Mom." He sat up, rubbing at his eyes. A six a.m. flight killed him, even though it was already nearly noon in Hillwood time. He really shouldn't have been sleeping anyway.

"You never told us what you wanted for Christmas." Stella asked, soothing her hand through Arnold's hair. He was sure it was an absolute disaster. He didn't have time to fuss with it that morning. It was a long day that led into an incredibly long night the day before.

Arnold laughed, letting his Mother fuss over him, "and you're bring this up...now?"

"Your father fell asleep." Arnold raised an eyebrow. "I got bored."

Arnold tried to reconfigure his long body in the seat. It didn't matter how much he flew. Plane seats were just never comfortable. "I don't know, Mom." He shuffled around awkwardly.

"You're always like this," she huffed.

* * *

 _Arnold had set up a small tree in the corner of their lab. It was a terrible Christmas tree. But he was a boy in a science lab with no people his age. At Christmas time. He had nothing better to do. He found a small, decayed tree outside and dragged it in. He propped it up in the corner with books. He covered it in what he could find. Paper clips… thermometers. He colored stars on blank sheets of notebook paper._

" _Honey...oh, well..." his mother called over sadly as he tried to origami his way into a star for the top. "Miles." She said sternly to her husband. Arnold knew they had basically forgotten the holiday. They were never keen on dates to begin with. "We should have gotten the boy a proper Christmas." His mom had never gotten good at the mom thing where they talk about their children while they're in the room._

" _I can hear you," Arnold called back to her. "And this is a proper Christmas." He waved them over. They joined him, in the corner of the cold, sanitary and sterile lab. With a rotten tree covered in garbage in the corner._

" _What would you like for Christmas, Arnold?" His dad smoothed his hair back fondly. It stuck right back up where it was before. "We'll get it for you."_

" _We'll order it," Stella enthused. She grabbed his hand. "Whatever it is!"_

" _This is enough," Arnold replied honestly. He squeezed her hand, and leaned in towards his Dad. A tree branch broke off under the weight of a stapler. They laughed._

 _And it was enough._

 _It was._

* * *

"Honestly Mom," He sat up, leaning over to look at another sleeping passenger, piled under blankets, a few aisles over. Stella followed his worried glance, and rubbed his arm fondly, "you've already done enough. It'll be a good Christmas." Arnold knew it would be. He actually - _genuinely_ , couldn't believe he pulled it off. Well - almost.

The lump snored.

* * *

Gerald 1:42 p.m.  
you should see the matching sweaters this year  
tim is ready to die with embarrassment   
wait hold on

He attached a photo of an incredibly grumpy looking Timberly, wearing a sweater with a light up nose on it.

* * *

Gerald checked his phone approximately every forty five seconds. It was a holiday, and his girlfriend wouldn't respond to him. She had been distant enough as it was that week. But he didn't know how to tell her via text message that it felt like her beautiful hands were ripping his ribs out, slowly but surely. He tried to focus on the family happenings, but he kept checking his phone. He did it at the dinner table, which was really a lunch table, because it was barely three p.m. He knew that was asking for trouble, but he couldn't help himself.

"Gerald-" his Dad told him sternly, "off the phone."

"Leave him be, Pops." Jamie intervened. Jamie-O caught his eye. He had no idea how his brother understood, but it seemed like he did. They hadn't been close, in the last few years. Jamie had gotten older. So had Gerald. The last Christmas they really bonded was the one they were both so sick of their Dad they got chinese food at seven p.m.

It ended up being a pretty good Christmas.

* * *

" _How many egg rolls can you eat, Gerald?" Jamie laughed as they pushed into the shop._

" _How many do you think they'll sell me?" Gerald asked in response. Jamie laughed louder, grabbing a paper menu from a stand near the front of the restaurant._

" _Gerald!" A voice called out, one he didn't particularly recognize. "You, kid!"_

 _Gerald whipped around, to see the frail asian guy from Arnold's boarding house. He was sitting at a table with a cup of soup, and a smiling young woman. Gerald, regretfully, had no idea what his name was. They were technically housemates, for a little while._

" _Oh, hey!" Gerald shoved his frigid hands in his pockets. He walked over to the table awkwardly. Jamie-O followed, and Gerald could feel the the-fuck-is-this look burn into the back of his scalp. "How are you?"_

" _Good, good." He nodded. He looked delighted to see Gerald. "You remember my daughter, Mai." Gerald politely nodded. The girl grinned. Jamie smacked Gerald in the chest, prompting him to be introduced._

" _This is my brother, James." He introduced politely, gesturing to his brother._

 _The man reached his hand out to shake Jamie's. "Your brother is a fine young man." He told Jamie solemnly, "he helped the boy who lived in the house, Arnold. He helped him reunite me with my daughter after so many years."  
_ " _You did?" Jamie asked._

 _Gerald shrugged, feeling his face heat up. "We did our best."_

" _We are still so thankful," Mai patted Gerald's arm._

 _On the way out of the shop, ungodly amount of egg rolls in their hands, Jamie-O elbowed Gerald. "That's pretty fucking dope, kid. What you did for them." He had never seen his brother look so proud of him._

 _Gerald grinned up at him, and said nothing more._

* * *

Gerald 4:02 p.m.  
they're singing O' Holy Night   
my family is right now

* * *

Lila was sitting on the floor with her father. They sat on their shag rug from 1984. He wore his green robe that he'd probably have to be buried in he wore so often. She had her hair in plaits. She had on pajamas and thick knee high socks, and Frank Sinatra crooned out Christmas songs in the background. They kept enormous mugs of hot chocolate warm by the fire and played cards. It wasn't everyone's Christmas, but it was theirs. Her father stopped letting her win in sophomore year.

* * *

" _I've lost four rounds in a row," she pouted. She was wearing lip gloss with her pajamas. They were pink and had deer on them._

" _Focus, Lila." Her dad reminded her softly. "You're sharp. You notice things. Pay attention to them. You know how to read people."_

* * *

She beat him that round, setting her cards down with a smug smirk. He took a swig of hot chocolate. Her dad was excellent at pretending to look dejected, when she knew he was incredibly proud.

Her phone buzzed. Arnold was face-timing her from the sky. Planes had Wi-Fi. It was officially the future.

"Wow." She answered, swiping it open. She held up a wait-one-minute finger to her Dad. Arnold was displayed in probably 25 pixels. "You've never looked better." She grinned. Lila swore, Helga rubbed off on her more every day.

"You sound like Helga." Arnold replied with a laugh.

"That's what I was thinking," Lila sighed. "I love her," she remarked casually, grabbing her mug with her spare hand.

"So do I," Arnold replied. Lila almost dropped her mug, her heart whirled around giddily in her chest. She didn't know other people's relationships could make her heart so full to burst, but damn if the two of them weren't trying. "Are you still picking me up from the airport?"

She looked at her father for confirmation that he wouldn't mind her being gone for two hours on Christmas eve.

He waved her off, mouthing "it's fine," at her.

"Right as rain!" She said chipperly to Arnold. "But why aren't you going back to the city with your parents?"

"Lila," his tone took a serious turn. "I have something to do in Hillwood first. I haven't told anyone yet. Not even Gerald."

"Not even Helga?"

" _Definitely_ not Helga."

The tone of their conversation was weird. It was serious, and stern. Her dad was watching her with a concerned look. It tossed Lila's stomach like a salad. It seriously reminded her of when she told Arnold she lied to him on the bench outside the Chipotle. It was mere months ago, but it felt like it could have been centuries back.

"Is everything okay?"

"I think it's going to be."

* * *

Gerald 4:58 p.m.  
When i die  
just bury me in a vat of pecan pie

* * *

Sid wandered around the boarding house. Sid sat on the steps, and stared at the portraits of Arnold's family. He had no idea what to do with himself. He slid down the banister a few times. He almost broke his neck the last time. He stopped doing that. It would be sad enough to die by yourself. It would be worse to die on Christmas.

He thought about watching more movies, but couldn't bring himself to do it. It brought back memories. Sometimes good memories can do bad things to you at the wrong times.

* * *

" _Another Christmas," Helga snorted on the couch of the James'. She was wrapped up in a fluffy flannel blanket. She had a hot pocket in her hand. "Another year of watching movies that have nothing to do with Christmas."_

 _Cassidy sat on the floor "in our own defense," there was plenty of room on the couch. "There's like, a handful of good Christmas movies." Cass was just sitting on her own floor because she could. She was wearing a massive black sweatshirt, with the hood pulled up over her head._

" _And we've seen none of them," Helga snorted._

" _Independence Day?" Sid suggested, flipping through the James family dvds. Cass made grabby hands at the case. Sid slid it to her across the hardwood._

" _It has been a while." Cassidy shrugged. She tossed it back to Sid, a sign to put it in._

" _Anybody want another pizza pocket?" Helga asked, pushing up from the couch._

" _You're gonna turn into a pizza pocket, Tic-Tac." Cass chided softly as Helga padded out of the room. She waved her off over her shoulder._

 _Sid plopped the dvd in, returning to his spot in the armchair in the corner. Cassidy stood up and stretched, before flopping back down on her own couch._

" _I don't like Christmas movies, Cass." Sid told her quietly, after a moment._

" _I've...noticed."_

" _Whether there's Santa or no Santa or cheer or whatever, the ending picture is always the same." He was tired. It had been a while since their marathon had started._

 _"There's always the big happy family coming together under the tree." He mumbled into the chair. He didn't know why he was telling her this. He felt the inexplicable need to defend himself when she hadn't even questioned him._

" _Hm?" She prompted him to keep going, but not demand that he do._

" _It makes me feel like an asshole. They're the kind of movies that you snuggle together and watch, with the roaring fire and the big fucking tree and you watch them with your big, happy family."_

" _I was under the impression," Helga's voice came to him. He nearly jolted up. She sat back on to the couch with a pop-tart instead of the pizza pocket. "That that's what we're doing, Sidney."_

 _Sid's eyes widened as he caught Helga's eye, and then Cass'. He opened his mouth to respond, and then shut it. He didn't know what to say. Other than that that insinuation that they were their own family, that was taped together and a little bit fucked, but a family, touched him. It burned in his chest._

 _Helga threw the remote at his face, "play the damn movie, Squid."_

* * *

Sid threw on his scarf, and his leather jacket over top. It was fucking freezing outside, and a thirty minute walk. It was worth it, to him, to push through. Maybe he _hadn't_ been handed a family. He sort of doubted that his family would ever come together enough to actually fall under the definition of the word.

Sid thought, as the wind bit holes in his cheek, and he squeezed his hands in his pockets to keep the blood rushing through them, that that was okay. He realized in the house that he knew of someone else alone at the moment.

And Sid learned, with a little bit of effort, and a few freezing cold walks, that he could build his own family.

It would be weird.

But he could.

The automatic doors opened in front of him. He felt a burst of warm air hit him. He sighed with relief. The place still smelled awful, but it was decorated with large red ribbons and a few fake trees. A bit of trim hung over the pictures of the founders. He strode up to the front desk, looking a sight. A man with long black hair and a leather jacket didn't belong in that home.

"Hi," he said to the aging woman at the front desk, "I'm here to see Phil Shortman."

* * *

Mari 6:17 p.m.  
so did you turn in your dorm keys?

Gerald's hands froze on his phone. He typed back his answer more carefully than he should have. Than he needed to. It was such a simple word.

Gerald 6:17 p.m.  
yeah.

He wished he had a way to let her know that. That his fingers shook when he typed his response. That he was sitting in church, hiding his phone under a Bible. That he didn't care where he was if it was her. That all he wanted was her there with him.

Mari 6:19 p.m.  
so it's official, now?

Gerald 6:22 p.m.  
yeah. 

Last year, just a short year ago, everything was so different.

Christmas had been so different.

* * *

 _They walked along the nativity path, the lights still lit up from the festivity, but the performers were gone. Only the scenes remained. She had a little bit of fake snow in her curls from when the kids tossed glitter at the end of their performance. Gerald knew it wouldn't come off his skin for weeks. Mari's smile when it happened had been worth it._

 _They walked silently, content with the crunch of old snowfall under their feet. Their hands tangled together in between them. Gerald could listen to Mari breathe and love it. Love her. He loved her._

 _They reached the end, an enormous tree at the end of the church lot. He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her in. Her coat wasn't terribly soft to the touch, a somewhat scratchy texture. She smelled like yams, and the perfume she always wore, and like she got in a fight with a pine forest. He inhaled, hoping the sharp air filling his lungs also filled him with courage._

 _"I love you," he let it settled in the air between them the way the ornaments barely hung on to the tree._

 _She looked up. He would never forget the wide-eyed, half-smiled, glitter-faced expression. Her face was mostly illuminated in the soft white light of the tree next to them. She grabbed his face, her hands not very soft in the brittle air. "I love you," she replied._

 _He was too overjoyed to even kiss her properly. He picked her up and spun her around. She had a shout of surprise and laughter and joy. He could faintly hear the kids singing O' Holy Night in the church behind him. He set her down, peppering little kisses into freckles and glitter._

 _He had glitter in his teeth when he brushed that night._

 _Gerald didn't care at all._

* * *

Gerald 7:06 p.m.  
mari, please, call me back

Mari 7:34 p.m.  
i'm literally in love with you.  
I just need some space.

* * *

"Well, that was a good sermon, I think-" Miriam put on her best brave face as the Pataki's returned to their, literally very humble, abode. Bob pulled her coat off her shoulders. She patted his arm as a thank you.

"I thought so." Bob nodded, hanging up her coat. He then took off his own. Helga untied her boots, sitting on their coffee table. It was something they once would have yelled at her for. They said nothing.

Helga felt almost comfortable as she slipped her coat off. Bob went to grab turn on the pot for coffee. Miriam adjusted the small Christmas tree she had put together anxiously. Helga padded around, itching for something to do with her hands. She turned on a small boombox they put in the corner, knowing her Mom had a Christmas c.d. in there earlier.

The Patakis weren't whole, but goddamnit, they were trying.

They sat together on the couch, and they talked softly. Helga wouldn't be able to tell you about what. But they managed to talk. Helga sipped on her cup of coffee in her uncomfortable Christmas dress, and they tried to fumble back into something that felt like normality. Bob fiddled uncomfortably with his thinning hair. Miriam glanced up at the photos on the mantel a little too often. Helga itched to grab her cell-phone, but she didn't.

The Patakis were going to get by.

It was almost nine p.m. when a faint sound came from outside.

"Wind musta' blown down a tree branch," Bob shrugged, downing the rest of his cup. Miriam stood up to stoke the fire, and maybe look at the mantel more closely. Helga couldn't blame her.

The sound returned, as a more persistent knock.

"What in the hell," Bob stood up gruffly. "Is one of your little friends comin' after all?"

Helga could only shrug on the couch. Sid normally took the window, but after the few months she had, anything seemed possible.

On the other side of the door was a woman with braided blonde hair, a puffy green jacket and worn sneakers. Bob froze. She held in her arms a boy, couldn't be more than four years old.

"Holy-"

" _Olga_?" She heard her mother cry from her spot at the fireplace.

Olga Pataki stepped into the home.

Michael Buble continued to sing in the background.

Olga had her mouth pressed into a hard line. Her eyes were big, as big as Helga remembered them being, and swimming with tears. Helga's breath caught in her throat. She felt tears on the edges of her eyes.

"Hi-" Olga's words were caught off by Miriam flinging herself into her daughter.

" _I prayed_ ," Helga heard Miriam mutter into her daughter's neck. Helga looked to her dad.

"Mommy, I'm _so sorry-_ " Olga's voice broke into a cry.

Her father's eyes were large and soft and shocked. Helga felt a familiar feeling crack into her chest. It hit her body like cool water, childish anxiety chilling her skin. _Here we go again_ , she thought to herself, _everything will be like it used to be_. A hiccup hit her from her chest, and begged herself not to cry, not over that.

Bob stepped forward, wrapping an arm around his daughter. The other, he left open. He looked to Helga deliberately, opening his hand out towards her.

Miriam opened her hug up. She had makeup smudged under her eyes. She, too, held out an arm towards Helga. " _Helga, sweetie_ ," she croaked out " _come here-_ "

Helga's eyes met what were truly her own. Large, blue eyes framed in dark lashes. Olga, too, held her hand out, and open. " _Baby sister-_ " a brand new wave of tears washed over Olga, her smile wobbling.

Helga's hands shook. Her knees wobbled as she stared at them. The bruised, misshapen, patchwork mess they were. It wasn't what she asked for.

It was what she had.

Before she even registered what she was doing, she ran forward, and crashed into the arms of her family.

She felt Olga's free hand grab her face as she tucked her face into her shoulder. Her mom's arm wrapped around her waist. The entire thing tightened with her dad's weight.

She felt exhausted. She was exhausted. She was so goddamned tired. She had been hauling around bricks of anger and stones of hurt and it pressed her spine further towards the earth every day. She was never going to build anything out of them. She had just grown numb. Her skin crawled, it burned with the realization of how much pain she was in. After a long time of bathing, festering in the idea of never being good enough, it had soaked into her skin. She wore it everywhere. She marinated in the idea of _never being good enough._ She adapted her own filmy layer of apathy so she could pretend like her muscles weren't screaming under the pressure. She had adapted.

She had _survived_.

And she could do it again.

She had gotten knocked down more times than she could keep track of. She got back up, and she moved forward. Weight on her shoulders or no, her mind sweeping over her like an enormous rain cloud, it didn't matter. She had gotten back up, and she put her hands out. Helga Pataki knew she had something to offer, just by way of her fingertips.

Because she was _enough_.

And she figured that out on her own.

The realization hit her there. Hit her right in between her shoulder blades, tucked under her mother's arm, her face shoved into her sister's collarbone. There, were there was too much blonde hair and too little room to breath and tanned, freckled skin meeting pasty pale limbs and Helga could feel the room getting smaller, or maybe it was herself getting bigger because it hit her there.

She didn't need them to love her.

They loved her anyway.

And it broke. The weight on her shoulders shattered into a million pieces. The pieces pricked her everywhere. They dug into her collarbones, her ribs, the corners of her eyes. She gripped her sister's waist, curled in. And Helga thought that maybe, for the first time in weeks, her body was feeling. It buzzed under her skin. It seeped in through her finger tips bunched in her sistter's shirt. It was warm and dizzying and Helga's head spun.

The warmth swept through her mind and she could only call it the saccharine, sitcky, smooth sensation that _everything is going to be okay._

"We've got an angel out there, somewhere-" Bob spoky gruffly, speaking into the hair of his wife as he pressed his face against her head.

Helga Pataki let herself cry.

* * *

Outside, on the pavement, there was a boy.

Through the window, he watched the family usher their daughter into their arms.

He clasped his hands to his heart.

"Merry Christmas, Helga," Arnold whispered.

* * *

 _a/n:_

 _merry...november, everybody? i literally. don't even know what to say i have been waiting to write this chapter for...literally over a year and now it is here this is it and i don't know what to say. deep thanks to those of you who comment, you don't know how much you mean to me. i'm serious, your feedback means the absolute world & i adore you all. thanks, everyone._

 _xxxxxxxxxxxxx (raised to the power of ten billion,) k._


	29. Chapter 29

"Hi," it was more awkward than Helga would have thought it would be, "I'm Cassidy."

"I'm Olga," Olga greeted warmly. Their hands met in a handshake. Olga had seriously calmed down since Helga had seen her last. She almost always had her hair braided. Today it was a clean french braid, down the back of her scalp. She had the just bare beginnings of fine lines at the corner of her eyes, sparkling blue. Her son, Caleb, was laying down for a nap. He seemed seriously overwhelmed. Helga felt the same way.

"Welcome home," Cass gently covered Olga's hand with her other, fingers rubbing back and forth soothingly, "I'm excited to get to know you." she sounded authentic. Olga's mouth pressed together in a sincere smile, and nodded.

Olga looked exhausted as she let Cassidy's words sink in. Helga's suspicions, she had learned, were basically right. Olga had left her ex-husband, Ned, taken their son, and hid. Helga couldn't find her because she hadn't wanted to be found, but not by them. She was hiding from Ned.

"You too," Olga leaned in, grabbing her other hand, eyes already weepy. Helga had no idea how Cass, who couldn't write an essay to save her damn life, always knew the right thing to say. "Ah, ah-" I'm sorry," she dropped Cass's hands to wipe at her cheeks. "It's been a long few days."

"I'm sure," Cass stood back up to her full height, and glanced at Helga.

"You girls run along," Olga rolled her shoulders back, brushing some baby hairs out of her face. She had on an olive green turtleneck and deep, dark circles under her eyes. "Do you need me to tell Mom and Dad anything, Helga?" That was a round-about way of asking Helga where the fuck she was going.

Helga raised her eyebrows, "uh, no. But thank you." _Trust me_ , she thought to herself, _if they need me, they will call._

Cass grabbed Helga's shoulder, offering a polite wave to Olga as a parting gesture. She turned them towards the living room, headed straight for the door of the Pataki home. Helga passed by the couch, made up as a bed, where she had slept the last two nights. She was going to sleep at Arnold's that night, she knew that much.

"Oh, hey-" Cass stopped before the door, looking at the arm-chair with a green plaid coat thrown over it. "Isn't that Lila's coat?" She made to grab it.

Helga stopped her, "it's not anymore." Lila had given it to Olga on Christmas Eve. Learning of it sort of made her want to vomit, scream and cry all at the same time. Which ever came first. She had done it. The little bitch had totally done it. At some point in time, and Helga would never, for the rest of her life, be able to pin-point when, Lila Sawyer had managed to worm her way into being Helga Pataki's sister. Goddamnit.

* * *

Arnold was sitting on his parent's couch. He was exhausted. He knew he should have already been driving back into Hillwood, because city traffic was going to be insane on the Saturday the day after Christmas, but he was still fighting to keep his eyes away. He got a text from a Hillwood area code, but a number he didn't recognize.

New Number 1:34 p.m.  
Eta?

Arnold 1:34 p.m.  
I'm sorry, who's this?

New Number 1:35 p.m.  
The ghost of christmas past

He squinted at his phone, and took a bold guess.

Arnold 1:36 p.m.  
Is this cassidy?

Cass 1:38 p.m.  
By george, he's got it.  
now - eta?  
Helgas pretending not to pout & its getting annoying.

Arnold was already putting his shoes on.

Arnold 1:45 p.m.  
Leaving the house now.  
Be there by 2:30 at the latest.

* * *

"Alright, y'all." Gerald seemingly just appeared in the attic. "Are we gonna look nice for this fucking thing?" Helga was half hanging off the bed, wearing sweatpants she had bought in sophomore year. Sid was propped up on the bed next to her, and his shirt had holes in the sleeves. They looked at each other "uh…"

"We probably should," Lila piped up from her spot on the couch. She dropped her phone nonchalantly into the cushion. "I have a feeling other people will be."

"It is a Lloyd extraordinaire event." Helga nodded, not really intending at all at changing out of her sweatpants.

"How nice is nice?" Gerald fiddled with the hem of his shirt. He looked at Lila and Sid, and then realized they were the last people to ask that question to, and so he turned to Lila "should I wear a tie?"

"You should probably wear three ties just to be safe." Sid recommended from the floor. He was lucky Gerald had nothing in reach to throw at him.

"Are you okay, Gerald?" Lila asked bluntly, tipping her head to the side. Cool red hair fell down her shoulders. She was sitting on the couch by herself, a bottle of sparkling green nail polish in her hands as she painted her toes.

"I'm fine," Gerald lied. He rubbed a tired hand over his face and crossed to the bed. "Move," he batted at Sid's arm. Sid blinked at him as if that were a request to go to the moon on Saturday. "Move or I'll lay on you."

"' _But I'm fine, though_ ,'" Helga mocked from her side of the bed. She sat up and scooched back against the headboard, watching Gerald with curious eyes. Sid rolled over and Gerald flopped down with exhaustion. "I don't get what the big deal is, you saw me when I hadn't showered in weeks."

Sid wrinkled his nose. Helga frowned at him, "it's true."

"Who hasn't showered in weeks?" Cass appeared at the top of the steps. She was wearing a crop top with a photo-realistic image of a cat ironed to the front, and her soft tummy showed until her sweatpants were rolled up. She yawned and stretched, noticing the bottle of polish in Lila's hands. She crossed to her and held out her hands expectantly. Lila grinned, tugging Cass down to sit on the couch with her.

"Me," Gerald moaned into the sheets. And quickly followed it with a sigh. "Nah," he rolled over in his spot. "I'm just being dramatic." Sid nearly looked like he sniffed him to be sure. Gerald let his first smile crack on his face.

"When aren't you?" Helga joked, laughing when Gerald shot her a warning look.

"Why won't you tell us what's wrong?" Lila asked, as bluntly as she ever was, running her nail along Cass' to swipe up the extra paint. "I want to play Dr. Phil."

"Mari's mad at me," he replied, laying with his back pressed to the bed and his hands crossed on his stomach. "And like, she's been mad before. But this is like. Real mad, like multiple days mad." Gerald frowned up at the sky light.

Helga hummed, sharing a look with Sid. Sid winced sympathetically, and Helga felt the same way. She was rooting for the two of them, it was hard not to.

"What'd you do?" Cass asked after a moment.

Gerald turned his head to look at her, looking like he wanted to be offended at the insinuation it was he that did something, but the tension melted quickly. "I didn't tell her about wanting to switch school until super late into the game. I get it, like, sucks, because I've cut our couple time into a quarter of what it was, and I'm living with my parents again, I guess, which is every girl's dream…"

"That doesn't matter." Lila shook her head, biting her lip with concentration as she squinted at Cass's nails. Cass looked at Gerald and nodded her agreement. "Mariella is upset that you weren't honest with her. She's worried that you don't look at your relationship as as much of a partnership as she does." She dissected succinctly.

Gerald blinked with surprise. He turned and looked to Sid, looking for his thoughts. "Don't fucking look at me," Sid blinked, "you know I don't speak girl."

He looked to Helga. "Same here," she shrugged.

"Ay, loverboy," Cass snapped her fingers, and Gerald looked back to her. "We do," she flicked a hand in between herself and Lila, who nodded. "She's right." Cass licked her lips, blinking down at her buzzing cellphone. "Speaking of loverboys," her eyebrows quirked up, "your should be here in t-minus five minutes."

"Mine?" Sid asked, eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

Cassidy sent him a flat look "for fuck's sake, no, Sid." She squinted at him. "Who would yours even be?"

"I don't know! That's why I was so confused!"

Gerald turned to Helga as the bickering continued and Lila made light suggestions as to exactly who Sid's apparently loverboy might be. He glanced significantly at the door, telling her nonverbally, "get out and get down there while you have the free shot." She blinked, and stood, and wondered exactly when she and Gerald started having nonverbal conversations. As she pondered it, she tenderly touched his forehead as she passed, slight brushing of fingers, in a way that she hoped told him how sorry she truly was about the entire Mari thing, and that she was rooting for him.

When she looked back, he was smiling at her, crookedly, one side of his mouth lifted up.

Helga was waiting on the stairs for Arnold to get there. She did want a moment with him before they got swept into the evening and their friends as they inevitably would. She sat and fiddled with her phone even though there was nothing to do on it. Her heart crackled a little bit with the opening of the door to the house.

He opened it, wind whipping cruelly behind him. His hair was all over the place under his black hat, his nose was bright pink and running and his eyes were squinted up from the cold. He shut the door behind himself hastily, taking off his hat to make his hair even more of a shit show.

Helga's heart swelled with affection.

"Hey," his eyes landed on her and his mouth quirked into a smile. "I've missed y-" the rest of his sentence was muffled by her throwing herself into his arms. They collided into the back of the door, Arnold laughing as he thudded against the door. His arms enveloped her, feeling safe and warm and she thought, that maybe, they could be something like home. "Hey," he greeted softly again, pressing a kiss into her hair, right above her ear.

She simply tightened her arms. "That sucked way more than it should have, fucker," she told him angrily, referencing his absence. He inhaled, like he was smelling her, in the least creepy way possible. It still sounded creepy, but she would swear it wasn't. She thought of how they spoke every day that time, a stark contrast to his other absence, and it only made her crave him, his touch more. She shoved that thought where it belonged, deep down a well, possibly in a sewer.

"I missed you, too," he replied gently, breath hot on her neck. She exhaled, melting further into his touch, only to be swiftly ripped out of it by Sid screaming "DAD!" And promptly falling down the stairs.

* * *

Arnold didn't want to seem as if he were procrastinating, but he had so much he wanted to talk to Helga about. They had only a few short minutes together downstairs before Sid was practically falling down them to come see Arnold. Arnold almost suggested to Helga that the two of them not go to the party at all, but it was Rhonda's infamous holiday party, and they had promised they'd go. He kept trying to slip in little pieces of what happened at the conference, but they always got pulled back into the group discussion of goats or plot holes in the movie they watched last night. Helga grabbed his arm, signaling with her eyes they'd talk later. Which they would.

And he was happy to talk to their friends, Lila and her loud laugh and Sid and the way he thought he was only subtly watching her every move. Gerald seemed a little wound up, but he was laughing, too, when Cassidy told a really funny story about her lab partner from that semester.

Something about their friends created these weird loops of time. The group said they'd leave by 4 to get dinner. Then it was 6 and they hadn't. Then it was 9 p.m. and Mari finally called Gerald and said she'd come to the party, so they actually left for the party. After getting take out and picking her up, they went over. The party was genuinely packed by the time they got there. Lila watched Arnold and Helga gravitate towards each other like two magnets on opposite ends of a table. She smiled, rubbing at her eyebrow, and wishing for the best.

"Kitchen, drinks?" Cassidy suggested from the back of the pack. Helga nodded, grabbing on to Arnold's forearm. They, as a collective unit, pushed through the crowd to get to Rhonda's kitchen.

"NO, NO-" They heard a familiar, shrill voice as they approached the grand double doors. Rhonda was practically fending people out of her kitchen with an enormous bottle of wine and her own determination as weapons. She seemed frazzled already. Lila wondered for a moment why she even had these parties even more, it seemed so stressful for her. She looked beautiful though, sparkling top and hair pinned out of her face.

"Need a hand?" Mari offered, grabbing the wine that was jabbed at them. Rhonda's guard dropped as she scanned their faces, setting down the wine entirely and opening her arms. She squealed as Mari dashed into them, followed by Lila, and then, after a moment, when Lila grabbed her wrist and tugged her in, Helga.

"I've missed you guys," Rhonda told them through Mari's hair, which she bent painfully over to put her face in.

Lila tightened her grip, and told Rhonda "we've missed you, too." They were shuffling back. Rhonda looked good. Her makeup was pristine, but overall, she looked less tired. She had put on a little bit of weight in the last month, and in the best way possible, filling out her arms and legs a bit. "How was the last bit of the semester?"

Rhonda let out a deep breath. She had her hair pinned out of her eyes with sparkling clips and a red mini dress on. "3.25, ladies!" She announced, looking pleased with it. Lila could have heaved a sigh of relief. Rhonda had been texting their groupchat about their grades since Thanksgiving with concern. She was so happy Rhonda could accept that you didn't need straight A's to be doing well in school.

Mari pinched her cheek, "I told you, you could do it."

"We never doubted you could." Helga agreed with a grin, leaning up against the doorway. She also looked healthier, Lila noticed in the warm yellow glow leaking in from the kitchen. Her skin looked plump, pink and rounded around her chin the way it hadn't in a long time. Arnold grabbed her forearm. She looped an arm around his waist.

"Did I miss the group hug?" Thad practically swaggered out of the kitchen, breaking through their little group. He had one arm dragging along Eugene behind him. Eugene looked a little miffed, but more involved with his cup of spiked something or other than anything else. He gasped, "is that my girl?" He met eyes with Cass, holding his free arm open. His hand was holding a beer bottle, but it looked nearly empty.

"I hate you, asshole," she rolled her eyes as she fell into his arm, grabbing Eugene with her other hand. Eugene's face lit up, seeming genuinely glad to see Cassidy.

"C'mere," Thad was gesturing at Arnold blatantly to join their hug, but he covered himself with a laugh and extending his hand outwards to all of them. "Group hug, attendance is mandatory."

Lila laughed as she stepped forward into it, grabbing Sid and tugging him along with her.

It was gross, this hug was.

There was no real way to tell who was who, and it was getting sweaty and the music thumping in the background was distinctly some sort of rap by someone who loved the word pussy. But, Sid had his hand curled around Lila's waist and she had her face shoved into Helga's shoulder and she barely even minded that she could pretty surely smell literally every other participant in this hug.

"LET'S GET DRUNK!" Thad shouted, and he promptly threw his empty beer bottle at the wall.

The hug ended there, because Rhonda screamed, and tackled him.

* * *

Sid couldn't dance. Sid knew very clearly he couldn't dance. Sid, to be fair, had never made an effort to learn to dance, and dancing wasn't something someone could merely learn via osmosis. He was in what could only be called a huddle of his friends, with a cup of something in his hand, and he was dancing. Other people might have called it terrifying flailing, but he could call it dancing. He didn't know the last time he had danced. He didn't know if there was ever a time where he was with people he felt comfortable enough with to try. People floated in and out of their group, but he grabbed Helga's wrist and spun her around and tugged her close and she laughed. She laughed so hard. It had been a while since he had out-rightedly flirted with her the way he used to. They were both very distracted that fall. Cassidy wormed her way under his arm, adding herself into their dance. It would have been a moment, probably. A moment where Sid realized exactly how much had changed in the last year. But he could feel the beat in his spine and he was laughing about exactly nothing and he could see Gerald and Arnold holding hands and doing some malformed version of the twist, and it was hard to focus on anything but exactly how happy he was in that exact moment.

* * *

It was hours into the party and Lila had gone upstairs to unlock and drop her shoes in Rhonda's room. When she went back downstairs, her friends werescattered. Gerald had Mari on his lap on the couch. They were holding tentative hands, but having some sort of hushed conversation. She saw Helga, Cassidy, Sid and Thad in another corner. Arnold and Eugene seemed to be having a conversation with a guy Lila didn't recognize. They were closest to her, so she crossed to them first. At some point in time, she had been handed another drink, and the guys she knew had left. She hadn't even realized it happened, until she realized that this boy in front of her was attempting to hit on her. He was tall, with big shoulders and messy brown hair that looked like he put a little bit of work into making it messy.

"So, do you have a boyfriend," he drawled, leaning over Lila, hand pressed into the wall. _I have a Sid,_ she thought to herself hastily. It was perplexing to her, how much of her type the boy was in front of her. Or maybe, how much he was like the other boys she had dated.

"Uh," she spared a glance for the boy on the other side of the room. He had a glass bottle in his hand, laughing so hard at whatever Helga was saying that it looked like it might shatter in his grip. His face was flushed his nose stood out, and his dark eyelashes were visible even from the distance. Cass sat next to him, hair still partially braided back the way Lila had styled it before they left. She had her chin in the palm, a red cup in her other hand, somewhat slumped on the counter. She was amused by Helga, but not to the extent Sid was. She caught Lila watching, waving a little hand in her direction, cool orange sleeve falling over her hand. Lila spared another look for Sid, who looked mildly in pain because he just snorted whatever he was drinking by accident. He spluttered. He, the boy, who had had months to make a move, who she saw every other day at least, who sat close and used his fingers to comb her hair and counted freckles and asked dumb questions and told dumber jokes and she laughed anyway. He, the boy who wasn't her anything. "I," she looked back to the boy in front of her, the boy who wanted to be her something, "guess not."

* * *

"It's too cold to be out here," Arnold warned her as Helga tugged him out to the Lloyd porch. It was as decked out as the house, ornate little paper lanterns covering the rails of the porch, lights delicately swirled into the trees in the small backyard. Arnold blinked at a few of the chairs that were still sitting out in the middle of the lawn, thinking back to a time that seemed like years ago, when he sat there with Sid.

"I don't disagree…" she smirked, "but it's really loud in there." Arnold would have followed her directly into hell, so it didn't particularly matter. "How was California, really?"

"It was good," he nodded. He shoved his hands into his pockets. He wanted so badly to ask about Olga. But he wasn't trying to act like that was anything to do with him, because it wasn't. He didn't do it for the credit. He did it because it would make her happy. "I have a lot to tell you. How was your Christmas?"

She exhaled, and little puffs of white fluttered through the air in front of her. Her hair was falling into her face. "How did you find her?"

"Wha-"

"Olga told me everything, Arnold." Her hands reached out of her pockets towards him.

They weren't gloved. He was immediately was concerned about it. He reached out, grabbing them quickly. He pulled her closer to himself, tucking both of their hands into his pockets as he curled his fingers around hers. "Thank you." She said, and he didn't know if it was the hands thing or the Olga thing but it was probably both. "Now," she squeezed his hand tightly through his gloves, "where the fuck was my sister?

He took a deep breath. It was a long winded story, and she deserved the entire thing. It started with an email, found in Lila's email when he and Sid were sitting in her dorm weeks ago. It was a dead-end, of course, if Olga hadn't replied to dozens of emails from Lila and several from Helga and her father, there was no shot she'd respond to one from Arnold. But Arnold, with the dutiful help of his parents, was able to hire someone, a private investigator of sorts, to track every activity with that email address. It's last active use was registering and paying for a domain. He was able to drag up an old cache of the homepage of the website, and figured out it was an advertisement for piano lessons. That's where his day in California started, at an old strip mall that now housed a small tanning salon, not a piano tutor. From there, it was logistical tag, calling the lease-er of the strip mall to beg for an address, calling a landlord to beg for a phone number, one step forward, and a huge kick in the stomach back. Six hours later, and he was on the phone with Olga Pataki, just offering her the ticket home to Hillwood. The Patakis had moved since she'd left Ned, and left the land line in the past, choosing to only pay for Bob and Helga's cell-phones. Arnold hadn't anticipated buying a ticket for Caleb, but it wasn't a problem.

Helga licked her lips, and listened uncharacteristically quietly, eyes darting back and forth as if she could see the entire thing play out in front of her. He dropped one of her hands in his pocket, letting it curl up into a small fist, and grabbed her cheek with his hand, "how are you?" He asked her earnestly.

"It's been a real riot," she snorted, sounding off, and guarded.

He swiped his thumb along her cheek bone, "Helga…"

"I'm tired of being tired, Arnold," she omitted honestly, leaning into his touch. Her eyes, looking large and almost grey in the lowlight, peaked up at him through clumped lashes, "a lot to tell me about California, huh?" She sounded almost amused already. "Like a job offer?" Her eyes sparkled, even though her little crinkle under them was undeniably sad. Her mouth was still smiling, but it was soft as if she were just looking forward into the inevitable.

 _Like I love you._ He thought to himself, almost kicked in the chest with it. "Like...a lot to tell you about," he finished with a soft exhale. She smiled, it reaching the corners of her eyes that time.

"Yeah well, I've gotta story about a goa-"

Her eyes looked beyond him and softened with concern. He turned back. Through the sliding glass doors, they could see that Gerald and Mari had entered the kitchen, looking less than thrilled with each other. More than that, they looked down right angry. Mari was attempting to make herself busy, wandering around and making a drink, clearly evading Gerald. Gerald looked more frustrated than Arnold had seen him be as an adult.

"Oh, no…" Helga sighed softly, watching. Arnold looked back to her. Her eyebrows nearly met in the middle, scrunched up with concern and more overgrown than they had been in a while. But her eyes were empathetic, interested. She was clearly now involved in the lives of their friends, and it made Arnold's chest ache a little more. He grabbed her hand tighter in his own pocket.

"They've been having problems this week," Arnold had heard about it over the phone for hours on Christmas day. "She's upset with him about the college thing, and he doesn't get that he can't do anything about it but let her be upset."

"Gee," Helga snorted, "I wonder what learning about that's like."

Arnold looked at her. She had chapped lips quirked up in a little smirk. "Yeah," he agreed jokingly with a soft smile, "I can't imagine."

Mari was responding, then. He could hear them through the glass. "Do you want to break it up?" He asked Helga, nodding back towards the kitchen.

"Not at all," she shook her head.

"Are you going to?"

"Well, yeah."

* * *

 _a/n... not dead! not abandoned! we're gonna finish this, ladies and germs!_

 _i highly doubt anyone reading this hasn't heard of mony, or mikosarthouse on tumblr. but if u haven't, here is her shoutout. you have to follow her, she's not only a fantastic artist but a wonderful person with this big ol' heart that's really helping me reach the finish line on this fic here. don't know if i would have got this far without her. she's also written a few really ! fantastic fics for shortaki week, found on her fanfiction account monyletra, read them!_

 _thanks for reading all, here's to finishing this baby out, all my love, k._


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